The Dream
by Alias424
Summary: Epilogue added! What starts out as only a dream slowly becomes reality.
1. Green Eyes

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Title: The Dream  
  
**Author** : Alias424  
  
**Feedback**: Yes, please!

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Archival: Sure, just let me know where.  
  
**Disclaimer**: Alias and its characters aren't mine; I'm just borrowing them.  
  
**Summary**: What starts out as only a dream slowly becomes reality.   


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Rating: PG-13  
  
**Category**: Romance/Angst

Chapter 1: Green Eyes  


He reached down and kissed her, "You were great in Shanghai…" Sydney frowned and let her thoughts wander. Danny would think that she was in Chicago or Boston, London maybe, but definitely not someplace as exotic as Shanghai…and even if he did know, he wouldn't know if she was great while she was there…he continued kissing her before slowly pulling away. She gazed deep into his eyes…but Danny's eyes weren't green…

"Syd?…Sydney…" Francie was gently shaking her shoulder.

"Mmmm…" Sydney was reluctant to open her eyes; it seemed like she had just closed them. Her last mission had been long and difficult, and she had a few cuts and bruises that she was going to have fun explaining to Francie and Will. She finally opened her eyes and answered groggily, "What?…What time is it?"

Francie sat down on the edge of her bed. "It's quarter to nine. I saw your note on the fridge saying to make sure you were up for your meeting at 9:30." Francie was looking at her worriedly, and Sydney was glad the shades were pulled down in her room and her friend couldn't see the cut on her forehead. "I tried to wait up for you, but I was too tired so I went to bed. What time did you get home?"

"Four." Sydney answered, still half asleep.

"What?"

"I didn't get in till four. Airport security was high, and my flight was delayed…"

"You didn't get home from a business trip until four in the morning, and the bank still wants you to come in at 9:30!"

"Yeah, it's okay," Sydney replied, finally sitting up and getting out of bed, "I slept on the plane."

"Do you want anything to eat?" Francie asked on her way out of the room.

Sydney shook her head, and headed to the bathroom, relieved that Francie seemed to have no idea how hard it was to sleep on a plane, especially when you had just come close to being killed and your head hurt like hell.

She showered and dressed for work. She quickly covered the gash on her forehead with a Band-Aid, but that did not hide the dark bruise that surrounded the wound, and she sighed as she left the bathroom and gathered her things.

"Bye, Francie!" she shouted as she ran out of the house, trying to put off a confrontation until she saw her later. "See you tonight!"

Sydney glanced at her watch as she headed into Credit Dauphine. 9:37. Sloane hated it when people were late, but she didn't really care. "He should try going to sleep at 4:30 and then getting up before 9 o'clock," she thought.

She walked into the meeting room. "Sorry I'm late." She sat down and looked around quizzically, "Where's Dixon?"

"This is a solo mission; I'll explain why later," Sloane responded. He glanced at her head, "Looks like you had a rough time in China."

Sydney stared back at him and answered coolly, "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Sloane nodded and began his presentation. "This," he said gesturing to a picture on the screen, "is Juan-Carlos Campuzino, head of the research company Ciencia, which is located in a mansion in Valencia, Spain. He is hosting a party tomorrow night to unveil the company's newest wonder drug, a pill that heals broken bones in half the time, but that's not why you'll be there. We have received intel that Ciencia has recently drawn up plans for a vaccine against almost any bacterial disease or virus that could be used for bio-terrorism. Anthrax, Ebola…"

"Aren't there already vaccines for many of those biological agents?" Sydney interrupted him.

"Yes, but this can ward off almost all of them, and it lasts, literally for a lifetime. One injection and you'll never need it again."

"Impressive."

"Yes. Your mission is to attend the party and when Campuzino begins his speech at 10:00, gain access to his office and retrieve the outline for the vaccine. The keypad is located behind a Monet landscape. The unveiling is being held at the reception hall on the main floor of the laboratory, and Campuzino's office and those of the rest of the researchers are on the floors above it. Security at the mansion is going to be very high. You will be greeted at the door by a butler, who will thoroughly inspect the contents of any bag you carry and make you walk through a device that can detect metal, explosives, virtually anything. It would be able to pick up the frequency and the location of any communications device we could give you. For this reason, Dixon will not be accompanying you on this mission." Sloane sat down.

"If security is this high, how will I be able to bring in a lock descrambler?" 

The room was silent for a moment. Exasperated, Sloane finally looked at Marshall, realizing that he would need some prompting, "Marshall…"

Marshall stood up and smiled, "Yes, um, because of the high level of…surveillance at this party, I don't have much to give you for this trip. But I do have, um, this one thing that not only is really cool, but it's stylish too. Okay, well," he picked something up off the table, but dropped it on the floor. "Oops, don't worry, I'll get that…" He bent over to pick it up and Sloane sighed. Sydney tried to hide a smile. Marshall picked up the object and showed it to her; it was a delicate hair clip. "Yeah, well, here we have a chic little hair comb, right?" He held it up to his hair. "I'd model it for you, but I don't think it would stay in my hair…um, anyway, you wear this to the party and look super stylish, but not only is it a hair clip. You take it off and presto! It's a code descrambler. You'll, uh, be able to get into Campuzino's office and open the safe for the vaccine plans with this." He sat back down, still smiling.

"But if Campuzino's detector will be able to pick up a communications device, won't it recognize this descrambler?"

"Oh!" Marshall exclaimed and stood back up. "I forgot, here's the best part." He picked up the comb and held it up to his hair. "You'll walk in with this on and go through the detector, and oh my gosh, it goes off! Beep, beep, beep!" He acts surprised. "Oh, uh, I'm so sorry! How embarrassing!…Well, uh, you might want to talk in Spanish, I mean they would still probably recognize English, but anyway…Wait you know, I almost forgot." He took the comb out of his hair and handed it to her. "This clip in my hair it was a present from my grandmother," He turned to Sydney and added, "Or it could be from your father, or uncle, your roommate from college, you know it doesn't matter." He began acting again. "It's made from precious metal, and I'm sure if I walk through again…" He walks a few steps, "See it didn't go off this time! The best part about this detector is that it can't tell the difference between just plain metal and a descrambler, it just goes off. If you take it off and go through it you'll be fine." He sat down again.

"Thank you, Marshall," Sloane sighed and turned to Sydney. "Your alias is Liliana Juarez Salvino," he says, sliding her some documents. "A Spanish pharmacist. You'll find that her name is on the guest list. Any questions?"

"No," Sydney answered, shaking her head.

"Well, that's it then. Good Luck."

Francie and Will are sitting on the living room floor playing The Game of Life, when Sydney walks in. "Hey guys," she said cheerfully.

"Hi Syd, we thought you'd be home soon, so we played your piece for you," Will said.

Sydney put her things down and walked over to them, smiling, "Thanks."

"How was work?" Francie asked as Sydney sat down. "Did you make it to your meeting on time?"

"Almost," Sydney replied. "I was only a few minutes…"

"Oh my God!" Will exclaimed, putting a hand to her forehead. "What happened to your head?"

She pulled away, "It's really nothing…"

"Let me see," Francie demanded.

Sydney sighed and carefully removed the Band-Aid and let her friends examine her head. "Now, it's not as bad as it looks…"

"Jesus, Syd!" Will cried, "How the hell did you do that?"

"It was really stupid actually. You see, when I was in New York, the elevators in the office building were broken. I was late and I had a meeting on, like, the 20th floor. I was running up the stairs, I tripped, and…" She gestured toward her forehead.

"Are you all right?" Francie asked. "You didn't say anything about it this morning."

Sydney opened her mouth to respond, but Will interjected, "I swear, Sydney, someone would think you worked for the Marines or were a boxer or something, you get so beat up working at that damn bank."

She ignored him and spun the spinner. She landed on the Career Space and was about to pick her cards when the phone rang. "Will, pick for me," she said as she jumped up to get the phone. "Hello?" Will held up three cards to her and she pointed to one of them.

"Joey's Pizza?"

"Come on Syd, you always pick the accountant! Can't you be something exciting for a change?" Will shouted in the background. "Look, you have the police officer here…"

"Sorry, wrong number." Sydney hung up the phone and sat back down next to Francie. "I work at a bank, Will. When we play Life, I pick the accountant…Oh my God, that reminds me! I forgot some documents for my trip tomorrow." Sydney sprang up and headed for the door.

"You just got back from a trip! Why do you have to go on another one!" Will demanded.

"It's an emergency. One of our branches on the East Coast is in danger of going bankrupt. Honestly, Will, this trip won't take that long…"

"You work too damn hard for that bank! You…"

"Will…" Francie tried to stop him, but he ignored her.

"I mean, it's not like you're an international spy…"

"For God's sake, Will. She already has it rough enough, can't you just leave her alone?" Francie turned to him angrily.

"…out saving the world or anything. Then maybe I would understand…"

"If you only knew," Sydney thought, as she stormed outside, slamming the door behind her.

Vaughn sat in the warehouse looking impatiently at his watch. "Sometimes she's a little late, but it never takes Sydney this long to get here," he thought. She had picked up the phone when he'd called, he could recognize her voice as soon as she said hello, so he knew that she had gotten his call. He had known she had completed her mission successfully, so there must be some other reason she was late.

Just as his mind started to go through all the possible scenarios of car accidents, kidnappings, and robberies, he heard someone walking through the warehouse. Recognizing the footsteps as Sydney's, he jumped up to open the wire door for her.

She looked angry and Vaughn wondered what someone had done to set her off, but decided it would be wiser not to broach the subject. Instead he brought his fingers gently to the cut on her head, feeling her flinch at the slight pressure. "Are you all right?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah," she responded flatly. Not offering anymore information on the subject, she walked past him and into the room.

He decided to press her for the information, "How did it happen?"

"Some moron with a two by four," Sydney replied, her back still toward him.

Vaughn decided that it would be best not to touch that subject anymore either. "You were great in Shanghai."

"What did you say?" She asked, quickly spinning around and giving him a strange look.

"I said, you were great in Shanghai," he answered.

She stared deeply into his eyes for a moment before replying, "Thanks." It hurt him to see her so upset. He wanted to take her into his arms and comfort her, but he knew that he couldn't. Sighing, he sat down on one of the crates in the room, and Sydney took a seat across from him. For a moment the room was filled with silence; she was still gazing into his eyes.

She looked confused and Vaughn wanted to ask her what was wrong, but suddenly she smiled. "So, what's my countermission?"

He returned her smile. "Pretty much standard. The CIA wants the real documents, and here are the false ones you'll give to SD-6," he said, handing her a folder. "Only Campuzino and the researchers at his laboratory really know what's in the vaccine, so SD-6 shouldn't be able to figure out that these plans won't work until they make a prototype. When they actually do realize that this vaccine won't work, they'll think the error lies with either Campuzino or the techs they have working on the project, not you."  


"Simple enough. Anything else?"

"That's it."

Smiling wryly, she nodded and stood up to leave.

"Wait, Sydney…" Vaughn reached up and put a hand on her arm, maybe it was just his imagination, but he thought he felt her shiver. She slowly turned to face him and he reluctantly let go of her arm. "Be careful…I heard about the high security, and I…wouldn't want anything to happen to you…you're…you're the best agent we've got."

She smiled sweetly, and he thought he would melt, "I'll be careful." She turned and started slowly walking away.

"Good luck in Valencia," he called after her.


	2. Valencia, Part I

The Dream

Chapter 2: Valencia, Part I

Author's Note: (or maybe it should be a warning) I have attempted to put my limited Spanish ability to use here. Please don't stop reading just because my Spanish is bad, and let me know what you think.

Valencia, Spain

Sydney walked up to a Spanish mansion wearing a provocative, dark blue dress. Marshall's comb matches perfectly with her outfit and is secured in her long, softly curling hair. Her makeup almost completely hid the wound on her face. 

As she walked up the steps, she let her thoughts wander to her last meeting with Vaughn. She had almost had a heart attack when he told her that she was great in Shanghai, and hoped he hadn't noticed the way she had been looking at him. Vaughn was supposed to be her boss, her handler, not her friend and especially not her lover. She had known that she was getting closer to Vaughn than she was supposed to, but she hadn't realized until last night that he was the man of her dreams.

"Well," she thought as she approached the door, "There's nothing like a good SD-6 mission to get your mind off of these sort of things."

She took a second to regain her composure before knocking politely on the door. A tall Spanish man, the butler, opened it for her.

"Bienvenidos, señorita." He gestured for her to come inside. "¿Su nombre, por favor?"

"Liliana Juarez Salvino," Sydney answered, stepping into the mansion and smiling sweetly at him.

He walked over to a little table and searched through a long list for her name. Moving closer to him, she bent down to help him look. She watched as his eyes wandered to her chest and followed the outline of her graceful figure. Rolling her eyes, she moved even closer to him, brushing his arm. She had become good at this, almost too good. "Ah," she exclaimed, pointing a delicate finger to a name on the list. "Allí lo está."

He quickly looked back down at the table and checked her name off the list. "Gracias Señorita Juarez. ¿Puede darme su bolsillo, por favor?" He pointed to her purse and Sydney handed it to him. He took everything out, slowly and carefully examining each object before putting them back inside.

"Bien… Y ahora…" he gestured towards a metal detector.

"Sí, por supuesto," Sydney smiled at him again and he blushed and quickly looked away. When she walked through the detector the alarm went off, just as Marshall had said it would. "¡Ay dios mio!" Sydney cried, feigning surprise and embarrassment. The butler walked over to her, and she continued her act. "No sé por que…" flustered, she looked down at her dress and then put her hand up to her hair. "Ay, sí…aquí," she took the comb out of her hair. "Fue un regalo de mi abuela. Es oro y plata." She handed it to him and he fingered it as she walked through the metal detector again; this time the alarm did not go off.

"Lo siento, señorita. Aquí," he handed her back the comb and her purse. 

She placed the comb back in her hair, and slung the purse smoothly over her shoulder. "Gracias señor."

"Espero que tiene una noche buena, señorita."

"I bet you do," she thought, flashing him another smile before walking into the other room.

Sydney walked through the crowded party room, holding a glass of wine and carefully watching the other guests. To her left three women were laughing just a little too loudly, while to her right two men were eyeing her and whispering to each other. When she had seen the dress that Sloane had prepared for her to wear for this mission, she thought she was going to be out of place, but she definitely wasn't. "This is a gathering for the disclosure of scientific research," she thought, "couldn't the guests act or at least dress a little more professionally?"

She sighed and checked her watch: 9:37. Twenty-three more minutes and Campuzino would begin his speech. Then she would be free to complete her mission, and get the hell out of there. She secretly hoped that Campuzino was not like the guests he had invited to the unveiling of his scientific research. If he was, then her mission was useless, this man would definitely have no idea what a vaccine even was, forget how to make one.

Suddenly, a short man approached her and nervously looked her up and down, pausing a moment longer on her breasts than he should have. Sydney began to wonder if all men were this perverted or just the men at this party. She eyed him carefully and he walked closer.

"Excuse me, señorita," he said with a thick accent, "The Señor Rivera has been requesting your presence."

"Really?" Sydney replied with an accent to match that of the little man. She raised her eyebrows, wondering who the hell Señor Rivera was. "What does he want?"

"I do not know, señorita, but you would do best to follow his request."

"And why is that?" she replied coolly, even though this man was making her a little nervous, and she was beginning to wonder if her cover had been blown.

The man paused and looked down at his feet. "He said he would not be happy with me if I did not return with you."

"Fine," Sydney sighed; this man was so nervous, he was shaking. "Where is this Señor Rivera?"

The short man breathed a sigh of obvious relief, "Thank you, thank you, señorita. You are very kind, and if I may say, very lovely in that dress."

Sydney smiled at the pathetic little creature, and let him take her arm and lead her through the room.

"The señor is right over here. I will take you to him and I am sure he will be very happy to see you. He has been watching you for several minutes."

This last comment made Sydney wonder if she had made the right decision agreeing to see this man; he could be an agent from K-Directorate who had recognized her. But then again half of the men in the room had been staring at her, and it was too late to change her mind.

The little man had quickly led her to a quiet corner of the room, where a black-haired man was standing with his back towards them, admiring a painting on the wall. There was something about him that was oddly familiar, but Sydney could not figure out what it was.

The little man told her to wait a few steps away from the stranger, as he approached him. "The señorita you were asking for, Señor Rivera," he said. Señor Rivera nodded his thanks and gestured for the man to leave.

Sydney took a step closer to the stranger as he slowly turned around.

Her eyes widened with the shock of sudden recognition and then narrowed. "What the hell are you doing here?"__


	3. Valencia, Part II

The Dream

Chapter 3: Valencia, Part II

His hair was darkened and slicked back, and he was wearing a suit that was very different from any suit that she had ever seen him wear, but Sydney was definitely staring directly at Michael Vaughn. His eyes gave him away.

"You don't sound thrilled to see me," he said in a low tone in case someone around them was listening.

"It was just a surprise," she replied, almost in a whisper. "A big surprise. What if SD-6 finds out?"

"They won't. If you take a look at the guest list, you'll find that Miguel Rivera was invited to this little party."

"Fine, but you still haven't told me what you're doing here."

He looked cautiously around them. "I will in a minute, but…" he held out his hand to her suddenly and said in a louder, accented tone, "Señorita Juarez, will you join me for this dance?" Sydney looked at him strangely and he murmured, "We don't want to arouse suspicion. It would be better if we acted in character and pretended we just met."

She nodded slightly, "I would be delighted, señor. Lead the way." With that she took his hand and he led her to the dance floor.

Once on the dance floor, Vaughn gathered Sydney close to him and they began to dance. They were so close that with every breath he took in her sweet perfume and could feel her heart beat against his chest. He prayed to God that she couldn't feel his heartbeat because his pulse had skyrocketed. Trying to concentrate on something else, he looked at the other people around them. But by doing so he noticed the jealous looks that quite a few men were shooting in his direction, and it only made him realize that he was dancing with the hottest woman in the room.

Vaughn was not the only one having trouble concentrating solely on the mission. Sydney had closed her eyes to savor the moment, and silently thank God that part of her training had included controlling her pulse for lie detector tests. When she opened her eyes, a quick glance at the clock reminded her that time stopped for nothing, and it was getting closer to 10 o'clock. Reluctantly, she broke the silence and whispered, "Vaughn?"

He took the hint, "When SD-6 briefed you on this mission, they informed you that the keypad to the safe is behind a Monet painting, correct?"

"Yes."

"Well, that much is true. There is a keypad behind a Monet in Campuzino's office, but you won't be able to open the safe just using that. Someone has to simultaneously enter the code into another keypad behind a Van Gogh across the room."

"Why would the CIA risk your cover? Why not just let me return to SD-6 without the plans?"

Vaughn paused a moment before answering, "The CIA didn't send me; they thought it was too risky because of the high security and your recent problems with SD-6. But I had some connections so…"

"Why did you come, then? Why not just let me return to SD-6 without the plans? That would have aroused less suspicion and…" 

Without thinking, Vaughn put his fingers to her lips, silencing her. She gasped and he quickly removed them. He was already using all his self-control to be this close to her without giving in to his secret desires, touching her lips with his fingers suddenly made him realize how badly he wanted to feel her lips against his own.

"Vaughn," Sydney whispered after a moment, "What are you doing here?"

Vaughn took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "If someone tried to open the safe by just inputting one of the codes, an anti-intruder device would be set off and an explosion would decimate everything within twenty feet of the safe."

Sydney stopped dancing and gazed up into his eyes, but before she had a chance to say anything, the music stopped and a voice over the speakers asked everyone to take their seats. "I'll start up to the office, you follow a few seconds behind me," she whispered, and then added louder, "Thank you for the dance, señor."

Sydney quietly slipped out the door and into the hallway. It wasn't really a necessity that Vaughn stay behind, but she needed some time to clear her head before she got into Campuzino's office. The touch of Vaughn's fingers on her lips had almost been her undoing, but thankfully she was a good actress and an even better liar. She was just as good at lying to herself as she was to others, and she had been able to convince herself that being pressed up against his body meant nothing to her. But she couldn't lie to herself forever and she didn't know how long she would be able to hide her feelings for Vaughn.

As she approached the stairs, she noticed two men standing on either side of them. They spotted her and one of them spoke, "Perdón, señorita…"

Sydney took a few more steps while the man was speaking and then collapsed on the floor.

The two guards ran over to her. One started to kneel down next to her, yelling for the other to call a doctor. Sydney took advantage of the closeness of the first man to connect her fist squarely with his jaw. He stumbled backwards while his partner fumbled for a gun. With one quick kick, Sydney knocked the gun out of his hand, and with another he way lying unconscious on the floor. 

Just as she was thinking that high heels should be considered weapons, a gunshot rang through the air. She spun around, wondering how the guard could have missed her at such close range, but quickly realized that he was not aiming the weapon at her, but at a man running towards her from down the hall: Vaughn.

Instinct took over and in two seconds flat, Sydney had the guard on the floor, unconscious.

Vaughn approached her, unable to utter anything but an obviously impressed, "Damn."

"Come on," Sydney urged, trying to stay focused on the mission, "We've got to finish this before they wake up."

They ran up the stairs, on the lookout for other guards, but seeing none. "If two guards are their idea of high security," Sydney thought, "This is going to be a piece of cake." No sooner had this thought crossed her mind than Sydney spotted two more guards coming down the hall. "Vaughn, we've got company" she whispered, nodding in the direction of the guards.

Vaughn watched Sydney, waiting for her to take the first move. The guards were quickly approaching; they weren't carrying their guns yet, but Vaughn had no doubt that that could change in a matter of seconds.

Sydney started walking down the hall toward the guards and Vaughn followed her. "Hello gentlemen," she said with an accent. "I have been all over this mansion looking for the restroom, but I have yet to find one…"

"Señorita, you are not supposed to be on this level…" one of the guards tried to interrupt her.

"…And you know how men are at asking for directions," she motioned toward Vaughn. "He promised to help me, but look where we have ended up. Lost! I should have never let a man lead."

"We will guide you to the restroom, señorita, but this area is off limits. We will have to take you downstairs. Follow us."

"Thank you, that would be most helpful." The guards started to lead them away. She looked Vaughn in the eye and he nodded slightly. "But first…"

With those words, Sydney kicked one of the guards in the stomach, and Vaughn punched the other in the head. Sydney swiftly kicked her guard in the head and he went down, a nasty bruise already forming on his forehead. The second guard had tried to punch Vaughn, but he had ducked and missed the blow. The guard had swung too hard and lost his balance. Vaughn took this opportunity to kick him squarely in the back of the head.

"We've got to hurry," Sydney said breathlessly as they hurried down the hall.

Vaughn nodded, "Yeah, before Campuzino discovers that four of his guards are down."

They made it to Campuzino's office door without any further interruptions. Sydney took the comb out of her hair and placed it on the keypad. There was a clicking sound and the door was unlocked.

"After you," Vaughn motioned and Sydney smiled as she entered the room.

"I'll take the Monet," she said, heading to a painting of water lilies behind Campuzino's desk, She lifted the painting off of the wall to reveal the keypad, and looked over to Vaughn. "You ready?"

"Almost."

Vaughn had found Van Gogh's _Starry Night and the keypad behind it, but Sydney suddenly realized that he did not have a lock descrambler. She was about to mention this small piece of information to him, when he started taking off his jacket and unbuttoning the top buttons on his shirt._

Sydney averted her eyes. It's not that she didn't want to see Vaughn's chest, but she realized that if she did see it she didn't think she'd be able to stay on the opposite side of the room; she'd definitely have to examine it at closer range. "What are you doing?" she whispered harshly, still looking towards the floor.

He was so engrossed with unbuttoning his shirt that he didn't notice her tone. "Lock descrambler," he answered without looking up.

"What?" Sydney looked at him, confused. He pulled half of his shirt away to reveal a large white bandage. He proceeded to pull it off and Sydney looked away from him.

He continued, "Remember when Patel got into the UCO with a bomb in his chest because he thought he had a pacemaker?"

Sydney nodded.

"Well, Miguel Rivera also happens to have a pacemaker in his chest," Vaughn finished, holding up the device. He turned back toward the keypad, "Ready?"

"On the count of three," Sydney answered. "One…two…three." They placed their descramblers on the keypads and waited, silently praying.


	4. Valencia, Part III

The Dream

Chapter 4: Valencia, Part III

A few seconds elapsed, and Sydney held her breath. Simultaneously, both keypads emitted three high pitched beeps; a hissing noise followed. A panel on the far wall slid open. Sydney removed the vaccine plans from the safe and stuffed them into her purse. Vaughn closed the panel and they both hung the paintings back on the wall.

"Let's get out of here," Vaughn murmured.

Sydney nodded and they both cautiously made their way out of the office and down the hall. They were about halfway down the hallway when Sydney motioned for Vaughn to stop; she bent down and looked at the floor. "Dammit."

"What is it?"

Sydney motioned to the bloodstain on the floor. "The guards are gone." 

Just as she had spoken those words, they heard the sounds of footsteps and shouting from the stairwell. There were at least ten men approaching them, and from the few Spanish words Vaughn could recognize above the shouting, they did not sound happy.

"Shit," he whispered under his breath. Before he even had a chance to think, Sydney grabbed his arm and they ran into a room at the end of the hall.

The room Sydney had randomly chosen was obviously an office of some sort. An unimportant office because thankfully the door hadn't been locked. The shouting and stomping were drawing nearer, and this time it was Vaughn's turn to act quickly. He grabbed Sydney's arm and pulled her under one of the computer desks that were scattered throughout the room.

Vaughn quickly realized that when he had pulled Sydney underneath the desk, he had not ended up crouching down with her next to him, as he had planned. That would have been bad enough, but the way they had somehow positioned themselves was by far worse.

He had managed to end up lying on his back with his head propped up against one side of the desk. That would have been okay if he had been the only one underneath the desk, but somehow Sydney had ended up on her stomach on top of him, holding her upper body up with her arms. She appeared to be listening intently to the noise in the hallway and focusing solely on the gravity of the situation, but Vaughn found himself noticing how their legs were entangled and they were hopelessly close together in the cramped space underneath the desk.

She was not just close to him. The word close could imply that they were standing right next to each other or sitting near each other, situations that he had been in with her before. Just that night he had held her in his arms and danced with her. He could take those situations. This one, however, he was having a hard time with. Not only was he very, very close to Sydney Bristow, but she was lying right on top of him in one of the most suggestive positions imaginable.

Vaughn thoughts were racing, "Why in God's name do I have to be lying here with Sydney Bristow? _Here_, under a desk, in a mansion in Spain, with a bunch of angry security guards after us. Why couldn't the situation be different? Why couldn't we be somewhere else?…In a bed, on the couch, the kitchen table…hell, I'd settle for _on top of the desk as long as…Oh, shit! What am I thinking?!" Vaughn tried to focus on something else, glad that he had just been running and could use that as an excuse for his rapid pulse and breathing._

He tried to focus on the seriousness of the situation; after all they could both be dead in a matter of seconds if one of those damn guards decided to thoroughly search the room. Thinking of that, however, only made him realize that this might be his last and only chance to feel Sydney this close to him, perhaps even feel her lips against his own. So, obviously focusing on the mission was not the way to keep Vaughn's mind off of Sydney. He spent the agonizingly long seconds trying to remember every dirty word in every language he had ever known.

During this time, Sydney was not as engaged in the mission as Vaughn thought she was. It was true that part of her mind was focused on noise of the guards outside the door (it was a small part, but it counted nonetheless), but most of her mind was focused on Vaughn. "Dammit, dammit, dammit," she thought to herself. "Why does Vaughn still have to have his shirt partially unbuttoned? And why does it have to be that on this particular mission, when I happen to be with Vaughn and not Dixon, I have to be caught underneath a desk, on top of my partner?" She could have handled this easily had it been Dixon. He was good friend, like a brother; Vaughn, although a good friend, she did not think of as a brother. That would definitely be wrong; not that it was right to think of her handler the way she did, and the way she was and shouldn't be at that very second.

She decided the safest thing to do at that moment was not to look at him and not to think about him. The latter was an almost impossible feat, but she could at least try. For this reason, her attention appeared to be focused on the situation outside the room, not the one underneath the desk.

Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open. Sydney became tense and Vaughn put a hand on her arm. They couldn't see the man, but they could hear his heavy footsteps. Barely breathing, they heard him walk slowly around the dark room, moving objects around and grumbling to himself in Spanish. He stood right in front of the desk they were under and Sydney could see the toes of his shoes in the few inches of space between the metal of the front of the desk and the floor. She began to formulate a plan in case they were discovered. Vaughn, meanwhile, had named all the English curses he knew and had moved on to French and Spanish.

Just as quickly as they had come, the footsteps retreated, and the guard slammed the door shut. Sydney relaxed; Vaughn let out a sigh of relief. His hand was still resting on her arm, but he quickly removed it once he was able to think again, and before that hand wandered to other unexplored and desirable areas.

Sydney listened carefully for a few minutes. When she no longer heard any noise from the hallway, she finally turned to face Vaughn, her eyes sparkling. She was so relieved that they had not been caught that she almost hugged him, but quickly decided against it. If she put her arms around him and brought her face close to his, she would never be able to pull away.

Vaughn was beginning to consider that under the desk wouldn't be so bad now that the guards were gone. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he decided he'd better speak before he did something he would no doubt enjoy now, but would later regret. "They're gone," he whispered, stating the obvious.

"I know," Sydney murmured, still watching his eyes like she was in a trance. Finally, she turned away and said, "We'd better go before they come back."

Vaughn nodded, and Sydney slowly got up, reluctant to move away from him.

They both stood silently in the shadows until Vaughn whispered, "I don't think we should go out the front door."

"No kidding."

"So, what's the plan?"

"Why do I have to come up with the plan?"  
  


"Because you're the smart one."

Sydney smiled sweetly, "Well, if that's the reason, I guess I don't mind thinking up the plan." She moved towards the window and looked down at the ground. They were at the back of the mansion. "It's not that far of a drop from here."

"You want to jump out of a window?" Vaughn asked, praying she'd say no.

"Well, I've done worse, but I guess…" she moved toward one of the computers. "How long do you think this cord is?"

"Fifteen, maybe twenty feet…"

"Good. Here, help me move this." She braced herself against a desk and Vaughn helped her move it towards the window.

"Why the hell do you think they need a twenty-foot cord to plug in a computer that's right next to the wall?" he asked as they move the desk.

"I don't know," she replied, "But I wouldn't complain if I were you; it's saving you from having to jump out the window." She unplugged the computer and secured the cord to one of the legs of the desk. "Do you want to go first?"

"Not really," Vaughn replied. "You go and I'll follow you."

Sydney opened the window and threw the cord out; it almost reached the ground. She quickly climbed out the window. "See you at the bottom."

Vaughn watched her descend; she climbed down quickly and easily. He knew that this was probably nothing to her but his heart still skipped a beat at the thought of her falling. He waited until she safely reached the ground and waved up to him until he finally took a deep breath and climbed out of the window.

Sydney watched him climb down, knowing that he probably hadn't done anything like this in a really long time, if he ever had at all. She didn't take her eyes off him until he had both of his feet on the ground.

When Vaughn reached the ground, he studied Sydney for a moment, amazed to find that even after knocking out three security guards, retrieving secret vaccine plans, hiding under a desk, and climbing out of a window, she still looked perfect. Her hair was only slightly tousled and her dress looked as if she had just put it on. She was slightly flushed and irresistibly gorgeous; Vaughn had to look away. 

"Let's go," Sydney whispered, and they ran as fast as they could, not stopping until Vaughn, breathless and in pain, happened to look back and notice that the mansion was no longer in sight.


	5. Chocolate and Wine

The Dream

Chapter 5: Chocolate and Wine

They had been running for what seemed like an eternity, when Vaughn grabbed her arm. Unable to utter a single word, he pointed behind them. The mansion was huge and the grounds had been well lit for the party, but there was no sign of it behind them.

Vaughn collapsed on the grass, chest heaving, and Sydney sat down next to him. For a few minutes they were both silent, only able to gasp for air. Sydney recovered before Vaughn did, but he was the first to speak.

"I don't think I have ever run that far in my entire life. How far do you think that was? Like ten miles?"

She shook her head, "Two, three maybe."

"Wow, I could have sworn we had just run a marathon."

Sydney laughed, a sound that made Vaughn's head spin even more than it already was.

"It was worth it," he said in a low voice.

There was an awkward silence. "Yeah, we got the plans," Sydney finally responded.

"No," Vaughn moved closer to her and she gazed deeply into his captivating eyes. "It was worth it to be with you."

With those words, Vaughn closed the distance between her mouth and his, with the sweetest and most passionate kiss…

"Sydney?"

…or at least that's the way Sydney wished it had ended. The fantasy was true up to a certain point, and probably could have finished that way. He had told her that it had been worth it and she had offered her weak response about the plans, but when he had moved toward her, she had turned away. He would have held her in his arms and kissed her until she could no longer contain her passion, but she had turned away…

"Syd, are you listening?"

…she had turned away and she didn't know why. She had ached to be near to him, to feel his smooth skin and the gentle touch of his lips, but just as he was about to offer, she refused. She could have spent the night in his arms, but instead she had turned away…

"Earth to Sydney," Will's voice finally drew her completely out of her fantasy and brought her back into her living room. She shook her head slightly and looked at her friend. He gave her a strange look. "I think you were just about to leave the galaxy, you were like a million miles away."

"Sorry."

"Okay, I'll start over from the beginning. I was just saying that…"

"Will," Sydney interrupted him and he looked up at her. "It's getting late and I'm kind of tired. Could we finish this some other time?"

Will sighed and got up from the couch, "Yeah, sure. I guess I'll just see you tomorrow or whatever."

"Thanks, Will," Sydney stayed seated and watched him walk to the door. "I'll call you."

"Sure." Without saying goodbye, Will went out the door. He seemed upset and normally Sydney wouldn't have made him leave like that, but right now she didn't really care.

She hadn't seen Vaughn since Spain. It had been nearly a week ago, but she still dreamed about what could have been. After she had turned away from him that night, she had stood up and fumbled in her purse for the vaccine plans; she had handed them to him, mumbled something about getting back to the hotel and left.

Sydney picked up her glass and reached for the TV remote, glad that Francie had to work late and she could have a few hours to be by herself and drown her sorrows in wine, chocolate, and old movies. She had wanted to talk to Francie about the situation with Vaughn and had almost used the infamous, "There's this guy at work" line, but decided against it. If she brought it up Francie would ask her a million questions, including why she couldn't meet the guy and why Sydney hadn't talked about him before. It was better just to leave things as they were.

About half an hour later, the wine and chocolate ice cream were already beginning to lift her spirits, and her thoughts became more hopeful. Sloane was sending her on mission, this time with Dixon, to a market in Cairo, Egypt, where Sydney was supposed to ID a weapons vendor that had been selling high-tech goods to K-Directorate. On this trip, she would get to play tourist, and of course Marshall had decked her out with a pair of stylish sunglasses that would not only protect her eyes from the harsh sun, but also doubled as a camera.

She was supposed to leave tomorrow afternoon, and even though there was no chance of Vaughn accompanying her on this mission, she would at least be able to see him before the mission, probably early tomorrow.

The meeting would no doubt be awkward. After all, she felt like a total idiot for rejecting Vaughn's advances, and he probably felt just as foolish for making them. She briefly considered walking into the warehouse and heading straight to Vaughn and kissing him until he begged for mercy, but quickly realized that would probably not be such a good idea.

Next she wondered if he would be angry, but Sydney only considered that for a few seconds and did not let it bother her too much. Most men weren't able to stay angry at her for too long, except maybe for that son of a bitch who broke her arm in Corsica, but men like him didn't count.

She decided that the best thing to do would be to walk into the warehouse as if nothing had happened, keep the topic of conversation focused on the countermission, and go back to playing the game that she had played all through their mission in Valencia, the rules of which included keeping her eyes away from his and her mind off of the fact that she wanted to close the ever-widening gap between them and be held tightly in his arms.

Sydney was now in a much better mood and was about to go to bed, when she remembered how she had left things with Will earlier. It wasn't his fault that her life was screwed up and she hadn't meant to be so short with him. He could get on her nerves, but he meant well and was good friend. A quick glance at the clock told her that although it was late, it was still early enough to call Will, apologize, and maybe even listen to whatever he had been rambling about earlier.

Sydney's hand was only inches away from the phone, when it suddenly rang, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. She quickly regained her composure and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" No one answered, so she tried again, "Hello?"

She was about to hang up, silently cursing immature prank-callers, when a low voice came over the line, "Joey's Pizza?"


	6. Midnight

The Dream

Chapter 6: Midnight

Vaughn waited as patiently for Sydney's arrival as he could. His ears picked up the slightest sounds in the dark warehouse, and after what seemed like half a lifetime, he heard Sydney's familiar steps.

His heart skipped a beat as soon as heard her footsteps. He knew that he should have waited until tomorrow to call her, that would have been closer to the time of her mission and probably would have been a lot better than calling her so close to midnight. He had waited nearly a week to see her and a few more hours wouldn't have hurt, but he had been aching to see her.

Thoughts of the last time they spent together had been running through his head ever since she had left him in Valencia. The soft Spanish breeze and the cool moonlight had been intoxicating. He had been able to control himself while dancing with her in the mansion and even while she lay on top of him under the desk, but sitting on the hill, under the stars…it had just seemed so normal and so right. He had forgotten that he was sitting there with a woman whose purse contained the stolen plans for a vaccine, and that they were on a secret mission; he had only known that he was sitting next to the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on and he wanted her more than anything in the world.

Sydney's steps were drawing nearer and in a few seconds he would finally be able to see her. During those seemingly interminable seconds, Vaughn allowed himself to wonder if she would be angry with him. She had turned away from him when he had been about to kiss her, nearly breaking his heart. At first he thought that maybe she didn't feel the same way as he did, or that she still missed Danny. But he saw the pained look in her eyes and the way her hand shook and faltered for a moment as she handed him the plans and turned to leave. Sydney had been an award-winning actress all night, hiding her true identity from everyone at the party, and her true feelings from Vaughn, but at that moment, when she had said goodbye, her emotions slipped through her disguise. While her mouth had been telling him that she needed to get back to the hotel, her eyes told him that she wanted him more than anything, but it had just not been the right time.

Sydney appeared before him. He was still standing at the gate and had not opened it yet. She stopped a few feet away from him, not looking into his eyes, but still giving him a shy smile, "Hi."

"Hey," Vaughn answered as he quickly moved to open the gate for her.

She walked past him and settled down on one of the chairs in the room. Vaughn noticed that her blue tank top was almost the exact color that her dress had been that night in Valencia. Trying to force any thoughts of "that night" out of his head, he took a seat quite a few feet away from her.

"Sorry I called you so late, but…" he fumbled for an excuse, but Sydney interjected.

"You have to give me my countermission."

"Right," Vaughn looked down at the floor.

"Don't worry, I wasn't in bed yet."

"What?" The word "bed" caught Vaughn off guard and he looked at her, startled, and noticed that although she was looking at him, she was avoiding his eyes.

"I, I wasn't…I mean, you didn't wake me up."

"Oh, that's good." He was acting like a damn fool and decided he had better give her the countermission before he did something really stupid. "Well," he said reaching into a bag, "You can take pictures with SD-6's camera, it's okay if they get the information, but we also want to ID this guy. We might be able to connect him to others who are selling weapons to K-Directorate or even SD-6." He held up a tube of lipstick. "Here's your camera."

Sydney nodded, but remained in her seat.

"Um, I'm sure you could catch it if I threw it to you, but my arm's probably a little rusty so I don't think it would be such a good idea." He smiled and watched her eyes light up.

"Sorry," she laughed, and they both stood up and walked towards each other.

Vaughn held the camera out and she slowly reached up to take it. He watched as she touched the lipstick, her fingers almost successfully taking the object from him, before they collided with his skin.

She gasped slightly, but did not move her hand. Vaughn's pulse soared. It was amazing how her slightest movement, her footsteps, the touch of her fingers against his, made him lose his breath. 

Ignoring the rules she had set for herself, Sydney finally let her eyes meet his. They stood that way for a moment, her fingers pressed ever so slightly against his, while Sydney's thoughts raced out of control and Vaughn struggled to control his breathing.

Without taking her eyes from his, Sydney slowly took the lipstick from his hand and put it in her pocket. "Vaughn," she whispered as she took a step closer to him. "I'm sorry…In Spain, I…"

He touched his fingers to her lips and she became silent. Vaughn could feel her lips quiver under his slight touch and wondered, "Why the hell can't I control these sudden urges to touch her? Especially to touch her lips?" He knew that he should take his hand away, but her lips were so soft and smooth, and he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Eventually, he brought his hand away from her mouth and slowly and gently ran his fingers over her cheek. "You don't have to be sorry."

The heat in the warehouse had suddenly become intense and unbearable. Vaughn wished he could take off his shirt, but although he had no doubt that Sydney wouldn't object, he didn't think it would be the appropriate thing to do. Instead he waited. Waiting was something he had become very good at over the past months, and he had already decided that he could wait a lifetime if he knew that for even a second at the end of it he would get a chance to feel Sydney's lips against his own.

Vaughn knew it was wrong to think of Sydney as he had been He was her handler, and because of the way he had been wishing that word could be defined, he was breaking just about every rule he knew. But he didn't really care. It was worth it just to be this close to her, to see her smile, to know that she trusted him, and to dream of her at night.

Vaughn had taken his hand away from her face and Sydney longed for him to bring it back. She hoped he understood that she hadn't meant to turn him away. She would make him understand; she had to. "Vaughn, please listen to me," she pleaded. "I don't know why I…I wanted to…Something just wasn't…" A single tear slid down her cheek. She knew what she wanted to say, but she was having trouble getting the words out, and the thought that he wouldn't understand, would think that she had meant to turn away from him…

"I know," Vaughn said in a whisper, gently wiping the tear off her cheek. Although neither of them had moved, the space between them seemed to be widening, and he didn't know how much longer he could stand to be so far away from her.

Suddenly, Sydney moved closer to him. They were separated by just millimeters and she could feel the heat radiating from his body. She tilted her head upward and closed her eyes. In an instant, she felt Vaughn's lips pressed tenderly against her own in a kiss more sweet than any she had ever imagined. For a few brief seconds she could taste the delicious sweetness of his lips; then they were gone.

Vaughn knew that although Sydney appeared to be an invincible, ass-kicking secret agent, she was a lot more vulnerable and delicate than she made out to be. He didn't want to hurt her or force her into anything. Although he was dying to rip off her clothes and have her right then and there, he was willing, and just barely able, to stop and let that one tender kiss satisfy his longing for her.

Vaughn may have been able to satisfy himself with that one kiss, but that fleeting moment could not satiate Sydney's sudden, intense hunger for him She placed her hand on the back of his neck and brought his head down to meet hers. This kiss started out as tender as the first, but soon exploded with passion. Vaughn's hands, kept back for so long were finally freed from their chains and able to wander over her, and he was caressing her back and running his fingers through her silky hair. 

For the first time in months, Sydney's mind was clear of everything except the man in her arms, the feel of his smooth skin, his sweet scent, and the taste of his lips. She didn't worry about SD-6, the Agency, her mother, her friends…In Vaughn's arms she was finally free, and nothing else mattered as their kiss cascaded deeper and deeper.

She could have stayed like that forever, never having to worry about anything else again, if she did not slowly come to the realization that just as her skin was burning for Vaughn's touch, her lungs were burning for want of air. But she did not ever want this kiss to end and would have been content to die right then and there, with their lips locked in a literally breathtaking kiss for all of eternity, when she gradually noticed that there was a sound in the usually silent warehouse. A sound that was different than that of her pounding heartbeat…it was a ringing sound… 

Now, she had heard stories of bells and whistles going off when someone finally found their true love, but this did not sound like the bells in cartoons and old movies; it was more familiar, a sound she heard at least ten times a day…Dammit! Her cell phone!

Sydney considered just letting the phone ring until whoever was on the other end hung up. That was obviously not working however, because the phone had been ringing long before she actually realized it and continued to ring mercilessly, seeming to scream for someone to answer it.

Reluctantly, she backed away from Vaughn, gasping for air. She took his hand while she slowly pulled away from him, and only let go when she had moved too far away from him for her fingers to continue clinging to his. She searched in her purse for her cell phone, wishing that she had been near the ocean and could throw her damn phone in the Pacific alongside her beeper. She found it and waited until she caught her breath before answering. "Hello?"

"Sydney! Where the hell are you?!" answered a very worried sounding Francie.

"Oh, sorry. I just felt like stepping out. I didn't realize how late it was." Sydney answered. 

"I was so worried, I was about to call the police! I got home and you weren't here, and I called Will and he didn't know where you were and…"

"It's okay, Francie. I'm really sorry. I'll be home in about half an hour."

"I'll wait up for you. I'm just so glad you're all right."

"Bye," Sydney turned off her phone and put it away, wishing that her life didn't have to be one big lie. She gazed sadly into Vaughn's eyes and whispered, "I've got to go."

Vaughn nodded and without another word, Sydney turned and slowly walked away. He wanted so badly to run up to her and take her in his arms and kiss her, or at least hug her goodbye. But he knew that if he touched her, he would never be able to let her go. "Good luck in Cairo," he whispered after her.


	7. Time

The Dream

Chapter 7: Time

A/N: I changed the subcategory because although the next chapter will have some action, I thought angst was more appropriate.

Please continue to let me know what you think; I love getting the feedback!

Vaughn watched Sydney until she was out of sight, and even then kept his eyes glued on the dark corner where he had last seen her, listening to her footsteps until the warehouse door finally closed behind them. His feet hadn't moved from the spot where they had kissed. It was as if he thought that by cementing his feet to the ground where his lips had finally found hers, he would be able to cement the feeling of her in his mind forever.

His skin still tingled where she had touched him and his mouth still burned with the memory of her kiss. He wondered why they always seemed to be the victims of merciless time. If it hadn't been so late Francie wouldn't have gotten worried and called Sydney's cell phone. If it hadn't been for time, Sydney would still be in his arms at that very moment, and could stay there forever.

Vaughn sighed and sat down, not in the chair that he had been in before, but in the one that Sydney had sat in. Time always seemed to be a problem where Sydney was concerned. She always had somewhere else to be and something else to do. Time had been an issue in Dinatti Park, when Cole had taken over SD-6, and especially when Sydney had been infiltrating Hassan's stockpile on Crete. Vaughn couldn't remember the exact events of that night; they seemed to be a blur. The sounds of that night, however, were stuck in his head. Sydney coughing and gasping as the gasoline rained down on her, her scared voice demanding to know what has happening. She had almost died, and all because of time. He recalled running up the stairs, faster than he had ever run up any stairs before, and into Devlin's office, "If I don't get your signature on a protection order for Ineni Hassan's family in the next forty seconds, Sydney Bristow will die." Forty seconds was the difference between life and death, and even as he had said that, the seconds had been ticking down; they had saved her, but only just in time.

As Vaughn sat there, alone in the dark warehouse, he wondered what could have happened if time had stopped that night. If it had not been midnight, and Francie had not called. Would the kiss have ended and he would have her in his arms, letting the silence speak louder than any words they could have uttered? Would they still be standing in that same spot, letting their kiss escalate further and further? Would they have already passed the point of no return and been on the floor in a heated frenzy?

A million scenarios raced through Vaughn's head, each one better than the last. But he would never know how the night truly would have ended. He could only sit in the warehouse and dream. Dream that he could still see Sydney before him, smell her sweet perfume, hear her heart beat in time with his, feel her smooth skin under his fingers, and taste her lips with his own…

As Sydney slowly walked away from Vaughn and out of the warehouse, her thoughts were raging so furiously through her mind that her head was throbbing. She hadn't yet figured out why she had turned away from him so easily in Valencia, when it was taking all of her strength no to turn back to him now.

She refused to look back at Vaughn, because she knew that if she looked just once into his eyes, she wouldn't be able to leave. It took all of her willpower to walk out of the warehouse, he seemed to be drawing her to him like iron to a magnet, but she managed it and with a small sigh, closed the door of the warehouse behind her.

The night air cooled her burning flesh, which hadn't yet realized that she was no longer with Vaughn and was still screaming for more of his touch. She got into her car and quickly drove away before she gave in to her desire to return to him.

Her mouth and lips ached where he had touched her, not because the kiss itself had been physically painful, his touch had been soft and tender, but because his lips were gone from hers and she longed for them to return.

She kept repeating to herself that to kiss him had been wrong, and not because of protocol. She had damned protocol to hell the moment her fingers had brushed against his. The kiss had been wrong because now, she wanted more. She wanted to be inside the warehouse with Vaughn, lighting the fire within her until she burned uncontrollably with passion, not in her car trying to use the air conditioning to cool herself down so that Francie would not know what she had been doing.

During the entire ride home, Sydney had not only been thinking of Vaughn, but had also been trying desperately not to be angry with Francie. She was a good friend even if she did pick a hell of a time to call. It wasn't her fault; it's not like she knew that Sydney was at a secret meeting with her gorgeously irresistible handler and had purposely tried to break them up.

Sydney sighed as she pulled into her driveway. Francie and Will thought they knew everything about her, but they didn't. They didn't know that she could speak just about any language she wanted to, kick the ass of a man that was ten times her size, and wore dresses that were almost as revealing as lingerie. They thought that she worked at a bank and went on business trips to solve bankruptcy problems. They didn't know a damn thing, but it was her fault, not theirs. The life she was living was one huge lie, and for the most part, it sucked.

Francie had her wrapped in a huge hug before she even stepped in the door. "Sydney, thank God! You scared the hell out of me!"

"Sorry," Sydney said as her friend let go of her and she collapsed on the couch.

"You didn't leave me a note or anything!" Francie exclaimed as she sat down next to her. "I got home, expecting to find you in bed, but you weren't even here. Where did you go?"

Sydney smiled. If Francie really knew what she dealt with every time she went to work, she'd have a heart attack. "I took a drive down to the pier, looked at the water…It was so peaceful."

"Well, next time at least leave a note."

Sydney laughed weakly, "You worry too much, Francie."

Francie looked at her strangely, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just…tired." Sydney stood up and hugged her friend again. "I'm going to bed. Thanks for worrying about me."

Francie laughed, "No problem. Good night."

"Night."

Sydney walked into her room without turning on the light and lay down on her bed. Forty-five minutes ago she had been in the arms of the man of her dreams. If only she could have stopped time! Now, she was alone, with only her dreams. If she closed her eyes tight enough she could almost feel him next to her, his soft touch tickling her skin.

Little did she know that in a warehouse a few miles away, a man hadn't moved from the chair she had sat in, and was still dreaming of her…


	8. Cairo

The Dream

Chapter 8: Cairo

Cairo, Egypt

Sydney sat in the van next to Dixon, wearing a pair of tight, faded jeans and a red, sleeveless shirt. The van was parked in a side street from where they could just see the bustle of the busy market on the main street. "You ready?" Dixon asked.

She grabbed her sunglasses and her purse. "All set," she answered as she headed toward the door of the van.

"Remember," Dixon said as Sydney reached out to open the door. "This guy is posing as a pottery vendor and our intel said he should be somewhere within a hundred feet of here."

"There're probably a million people selling pottery between this alley and the next," Sydney sighed and smiled at him.

He smiled back, "Just look for anything suspicious and get as many pictures as you can, but remember that you only have 46 pictures…"

"Because that's how many chromosomes are in the human body," Sydney interrupted him, grinning at Marshall's explanation for the reasoning behind the number of photos the camera could take.

"Right. Just get what you can and we'll send the photos to the techs and see what they come up with."

"See you," Sydney said, opening the door and putting on the sunglasses as she stepped out.

"Have fun," Dixon called after her.

Sydney walked out of the alley and into the commotion of the main street. She stopped for a moment and took in the sights and sounds. Booths and tents of all sizes and colors lined either side of the street and people and animals were taking up most of the space in between. Most of the voices she heard were in Arabic, either loudly crying out their wares, or engaged in more quiet conversation, but she could hear some broken English, and noted that there were quite a few people that were noticeably tourists.

Across the street and a few feet to her right, Sydney noticed a small booth that was filled with pottery. "I'm going to the right," Sydney spoke softly to Dixon. "Keep track of how far I go."

"Copy that." Dixon answered.

She walked up to the booth. A frail, tired looking, old woman was seated on a stool behind it. There was no way that this woman was selling high-tech weaponry to K-Directorate; she looked like she could barely sit up. Sydney picked up a pot and carefully examined it; the woman's eyes followed her movements. "What the hell," Sydney thought. "I've got some film to waste." She placed the pot back down and nonchalantly brought her hand up to her glasses, taking a picture. The woman's eyes still followed her as Sydney turned and continued walking down the street.

"How's it going?" Dixon spoke in her ear.

"Heading toward the second booth," Sydney answered. She walked further down the street and up to another pottery booth, this one run by a man. She examined this man's pottery just as she had the old woman's. He spoke to her in Arabic and she fought the urge to answer him in his native tongue. "How much?" Sydney asked slowly, holding up the pot with one hand and taking a picture with the other.

The man held up ten fingers and Sydney shook her head, "Too much."

She started to walk away and the man frantically waved eight fingers, shouting "Eight no too much! Eight!…Seven!…Five!…" Sydney ignored him and walked away.

She continued walking and stopping at all the pottery booths, first all the way down the street to her right and then turning and going almost as far down to her left. Although she strongly sensed that none of the people she had seen so far were selling goods to K-Directorate, she had still taken forty-five pictures of the various vendors with SD-6's camera. She didn't care if SD-6 found their man or not. "How much further, Dixon?"

"Just a few more feet."

"Copy th…" the rest of Sydney's reply was cut off as she gasped. About fifteen feet down the street, a man was standing with his back to her. A man whose brown hair was slightly spiked and whose clothes were dirtier than any she'd ever seen him wear, but, oh God, that didn't matter…

"Sydney?" Dixon asked, concerned, but she didn't hear him.

She was still staring at the man, her heart racing at the thought of their last moments together and her lips beginning to ache as she remembered his kiss. She didn't even stop to wonder why he had shown up as she slowly closed the gap between them, twelve feet, ten, eight…Before she could get any closer he turned around. On his cheek was a livid scar and his face was covered in dirt and grime. But she had barely noticed those features. As soon as he had turned around, her eyes immediately shot up to his. She had still been walking closer, but immediately stopped as his dark brown eyes stared sinisterly into her own. The man spat in her direction before turning and sauntering away from her.

"Sydney, what's wrong?"

She paused before answering, trying to catch her breath and slow her beating heart. "Dixon," she finally managed, fumbling for an answer. She obviously couldn't tell him that she could barely breathe because she thought she had seen the man that she had fallen head over heels in love with…Thankfully, though, her eyes fell on the sign over the booth that the man had been standing at: another pottery vendor. "I spotted another booth. I'm going in."

Sydney approached the pottery booth, behind this one was a man whose face was just as dirty and just as sinister looking as that of the man who had just walked away from her. He looked her up and down before speaking, almost without an accent, "You are American?"

"Yes," she answered, taking the last picture with her sunglasses and sliding them down her nose so she could clearly see him.

He laughed and she reached in her purse, fingering the lipstick Vaughn had given her. Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered taking it from him, her fingers brushing against his.

"Can I help you with anything, my dear?" the man asked, and his words brought her back to reality. She forced any thoughts of Vaughn out of her mind and brought the lipstick out of her purse. She proceeded to apply it, taking pictures at the same time.

"No," she answered, putting the lipstick back in her purse and casually looking around at the pottery on his shelves. "You don't have what I'm looking for."

"Is that so?" He replied, his evil eyes flashing as he reached out and slid his greasy hand up her arm.

Sydney quickly and forcefully grabbed his wrist and flung his hand away from her. "What do you think you're doing?"

The man said nothing, but narrowed his eyes as his lips twisted into a grin. She returned his stare while slowly backing away. Just as she was turning to walk back to the van, she noticed him motion to one of the men that had been standing nearby, say something to him that she couldn't make out, and nod in her direction.

She started to walk away. "Dixon, I'm being followed. Get the van ready for a quick exit."

"Copy that. Be careful Syd."

Just as she heard those words, she felt a hand reach out and try to grab her elbow. She broke into a sprint, but the guy following her was fast and almost grabbed her.

Picking up speed, Sydney ducked into an alley and hid in a doorframe. The man saw her turn off of the main street and followed her. He almost ran by her, but she picked up a stick of wood that had been standing by the door and whacked him in the head. Stunned, he spun around and threw a punch at her. She ducked and his fist hit the wall. He yowled in pain and she kicked him in the stomach. His eyes were now glowing with anger and he lunged at her throat. She wasn't able to move away quick enough and his fingers encircled her neck.

Gasping for air as his death grip tightened, Sydney put her hands on his shoulders and kneed him forcefully in the groin. Surprised, he let go of her neck and she pushed him as he stumbled backwards. As he was fumbling for balance, she kicked him in the head and he fell to the ground, unconscious.

Sydney ran out of the alley and towards the van.

The sound of familiar laughter broke her concentration and caused her to turn her head in its direction. What she saw made her stop completely, eyes wide. There, not ten feet away from her, stood the man from the pottery booth.

He took a step toward her and for a second, she froze. He took another step and another. He was reaching out his hand to her. In another second his hand would be upon her; he would be touching her; he would have her.

Then, something in Sydney clicked on. She felt the adrenaline rush as her fight or flight response kicked in. But this time, instead of bracing her for attack, her body chose the latter option, and her feet picked themselves up off the dusty ground and carried her away with lightning speed.

"Take care, my dear!" the man called after her fleeting figure. But she was running on auto pilot, and she didn't turn back.

She spotted the van in the distance; its form becoming quickly larger as her feet carried her towards it. Finally, she was there, and her hand shot out, slapping against the hot metal, and flinging open the door. She unconsciously grabbed Dixon's outstretched hand, he hoisted her into the van, and they quickly sped away.


	9. Thoughts and Tears

The Dream

Chapter 9: Thoughts and Tears

Sydney walked into her apartment, threw down her coat and her bags and collapsed onto the couch with a sigh. She began to wonder where Francie was, but then remembered that her friend had told her that she was going to a wedding for one of her cousins and wouldn't be home until late that night.

Sydney looked at the clock. It was only five. She and Dixon had been able to catch an earlier flight home and the CIA wouldn't call her for a few more hours. For some reason, she didn't feel like being alone, and considered calling Will, but decided against it. He wasn't the man she really wanted to be with right now, and he was probably busy with his cheerleader anyway.

After a few minutes, Sydney decided to take a walk through the park. That way she could take advantage of the crisp California air, a pleasant switch after the oppressive heat of the crowded market in Cairo, and could be around other people, but she still be by herself to think.

She moved her luggage so she wouldn't trip over it when she came back and picked up her coat and purse. With one last look at the clock, she walked out the door, deciding she would be back by 6:30 because that's usually the time people eat dinner and a certain someone might want to order a pizza.

Sydney sat on a bench in the park, dreaming of what her next meeting would be like with Vaughn. Just thinking about it made her breathing quicken and her heart flutter. She wished she could run into his arms and never have to leave again. Suddenly, she felt something tapping her leg and looked down to find a pair of gorgeous, green eyes…

"Michael!" A frazzled looking young woman called out, totally jolting Sydney out of her fantasy, her head snapping to attention at the mention of her handler's name. "There you are!"

Sydney looked back down to find that the owner of the green eyes was wearing red corduroy overalls and was giving her a nearly toothless grin. "You must be Michael," she said, returning the child's sweet smile.

"I'm so sorry!" the young woman had approached her and took the little boy's hand. "I can't take my eyes off of him for ten seconds!"

"It's no problem," Sydney answered, offering her a quick smile before returning her gaze to the boy. "He has beautiful eyes."

"Just like his father," the woman responded as she led the boy away. "Come on Michael, let's go play in the sandbox."

The child toddled after his mother, turning back once to look at Sydney. She gave him a small wave and a smile. It was only after they had walked away that Sydney realized that she had taken a seat on a bench at the playground. For the first time she noticed the shouts and laughter of the playing children. 

"You can't catch me!"

"I'm superman!"

"First one there gets the purple lollipop!"

"Mommy, watch this!"

Normally, she wouldn't have minded watching and listening to children playing, but for some reason, it bothered her. A young couple holding hands under a tree watching their daughter play nearby, a mother catching her son at the bottom of the slide, a father pushing two little girls on the swings…The high voice of one of the little girls reached her ears, "You're the best daddy in the whole world!"

Sydney swallowed and hurried away, remembering what had led her to tell the truth to Danny, his voice repeating over and over in her head, "It's impossible, isn't it? One day there's going to be a baby in there." But there wouldn't be. Not if she had to keep lying about her life. Not with SD-6 around. She would never get to watch her children play in the park, never get to see their smiles or hear their sweet voices, never get to say that they had their father's eyes…

She didn't know where she was going; all she knew was that it was somewhere away from the playground. Finally, she found herself at a fountain, and stopped walking. This was a quiet, seldom visited section of the park that was far from both the main path and the playground, and she was alone.

Sydney closed her eyes and let the soft sounds of the fountain fill her ears. What the hell was wrong with her? She could take the beating of some dirty creep halfway across the world, but she couldn't stand to watch children playing in a park? She took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax, when she suddenly felt a hand tugging gently at her elbow.

"Excuse me, miss?"

When she turned, she was almost face to face with a tall, handsome man, whose auburn hair shined in the rays of the setting sun as his brown eyes smiled at her from behind his glasses.

"Hi," Sydney offered, forcing herself to return his smile.

He held out a camera. "Would you mind taking our picture?" he asked, as Sydney noticed the pretty, dark-haired woman clinging to his arm.

"Sure," Sydney answered, taking the camera from his hand. She stepped back and the couple posed for the picture. The man put his arm around the woman, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Thanks a lot," the man said after Sydney had taken the picture. "This is our first time to LA."

"We're on our honeymoon," the woman added.

When she heard those words, Sydney tripped, and couldn't catch her balance. She did manage, however, to land on one knee and not fall flat on her face or break the man's camera.

"Are you all right?" The man asked, as he and his wife ran up to her. He offered Sydney his hand, and she absently took it and stood up, her eyes staring off somewhere in the distance.

She had never gotten a honeymoon with Danny and she would probably never get one with Vaughn.

"Miss?"

Sydney jumped slightly; the man still had a hand on her arm to steady her and she shrugged it off. "What? Oh…yes, I'm fine…Thank you." She quickly brushed herself off with one hand and handed him the camera with the other.

"Are you sure you're…"

"Yes," Sydney interrupted him. "I'm sorry, I have to go." With that she turned and walked away.

It was eight thirty when Sydney finally returned home. Her cell phone had rung about five times before she had finally turned it off and her telephone was ringing when she opened the door to her house.

During her long walk through the park and down the dark city streets she had been thinking about her life, her past and her future. The phone continued to ring mercilessly, but Sydney didn't have the energy to take it off the hook. She wanted to be alone, completely and utterly alone. She walked into the bathroom, closing the door to muffle the sound of the phone, sank down next to the bathtub and held her head in her hands.

She had finally figured it out, why she had turned away from Vaughn. She had almost discovered the reason in Cairo, when she thought she had seen him. If it had really been him, she wouldn't have been able to acknowledge it. She would have had to turn away from him, pretending she didn't want to jump into his arms, didn't want to gaze into his eyes, didn't know he existed. That thought had almost dawned on her while in Egypt, but Dixon's voice had kept her focused on her mission.

When she was in the park, she had finally been able to think freely and clearly. The young man and woman by the fountain, she could never have a life like theirs. She knew that she could never marry a man without telling him the truth about herself, and she also knew that she couldn't tell him the truth. The truth may hurt her, but it could kill those she was closest to.

Vaughn. He was the only one who knew the truth about her. He always knew where she really was and the real reason her arm was broken or her face was bruised. But even he was a lie. Vaughn, the man who knew of her secret life and held the key to her heart, knew the names of her friends, but didn't know who they were, knew her address, but didn't know where she lived. She couldn't invite him over for dinner, curl up with him on the couch, or talk to him on the phone. She couldn't even look him in the eye when they were in public, for God's sake. She always had to turn away.

She loved him. She loved him so much that it hurt. She had only really kissed him once, but already it was tearing her apart to not being able to take him home with her, to take him to her bed. Worst of all, she had no one to talk to. Francie and Will didn't, couldn't know who Vaughn was. Her father knew but she didn't think he would be pleased to know the thoughts she was having about her handler.

Vaughn was usually the only one she could talk to, but she sure as hell couldn't talk to him about this. She was feeling so conflicted, that she didn't think she could talk to him at all anymore. She didn't think she would be able to deal with not being able to lay down next to him at night, sleep with his arm around her, and kiss him first thing in the morning.

She knew that he was trying to call her, was probably worried sick because she hadn't contacted him when she got back from Cairo. The phone had been ringing every few minutes since she had gotten home until about ten minutes ago. But she knew she wouldn't be able to hear the sound of his voice. It would be so far away.

Sydney angrily fought back tears, but one stubbornly escaped and fell into her lap. With the release of the first, others quickly followed, cascading down the tip of her nose, one after another. Sydney didn't even bother to stop the river of tears and dry her eyes; she let them flow, freely and silently.

Suddenly, she heard a sound, the opening and closing of a door. She couldn't let Francie see her like this. If she did, she'd have to spin another tale about her problems at the bank, enlarging her strangling, suffocating, black web of lies. Sydney quickly turned on the water and sank back down on the floor. If Francie thought she was taking a shower, it would give her some time to pull herself together and paste a smile on her face before having to walk out and face her friend.

Her tears had stopped flowing so quickly and Sydney made a weak attempt to dry her eyes. Then her well-trained ears picked up another sound: voices and then laughter, that almost annoying forced sitcom laughter. Francie must have turned on the TV, and she must have turned up the volume, because if Sydney could hear it over the running water of the shower and the blood pounding in her ears, it was loud.

Tears were no longer running freely down her cheeks, but they were still threatening to overflow and escape from her eyes. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Francie would know something was wrong if she stayed in the shower for too long.

All of a sudden, there was a soft knock on the bathroom door. "Dammit," Sydney thought as her frustrated tears quickly escaped again. She had to say something, but she couldn't find her voice.

The knock was repeated, just as gently as before. Sydney struggled to say something, anything, but when she opened her mouth, all that escaped was a sob, which she quickly tried to muffle with her hand.

The door handle turned and Sydney fought to think up a story to tell Francie, but she couldn't. Slowly, the door opened. Sydney tried to dry her eyes and looked up, expecting to see her friend's surprised eyes staring at her. But Francie's eyes weren't the one's she found gazing back at her.


	10. Maybe

The Dream

Chapter 10: Maybe

Vaughn hung up the phone and looked at the clock. 8:27. She should have been home by now. She should have been home two hours ago. He picked up the phone again and pressed redial. Sighing, knowing that if she hadn't picked up the phone the last ten times he called, she wouldn't pick it up now, he still let it ring for a minute before finally hanging up.

He had tried calling her ever since six thirty. At first he thought that she hadn't gotten home yet, and waited had until about seven before trying again. She still hadn't been home, but he didn't really start to worry. Maybe her flight was delayed.

When it was almost eight o'clock and she still wasn't home, he had started to get nervous.

Maybe she was caught in traffic. He had tried calling her cell phone: no answer.

Maybe she was in a bad area and didn't have any service. He had waited and then tried again and again.

Maybe she didn't have her cell turned on.

Vaughn picked up his phone again. He would call the office; see if they had any word on her flight or her mission.

He dialed, beginning to wonder if she had gotten home at all. What if she had gotten hurt? What if she had been kidnapped? What if she had been kill…No, he didn't want to think of that.

He realized that someone was speaking on the other end of the line, "Hello? Hello?"

"Hey, Weiss?" Vaughn asked, finding his voice.

"Vaughn, is that you?"

"Yeah. What are you still doing at work?"

"Don't ask," Weiss responded with a sigh. "So, what's up?"

"I was supposed to meet with Sydn…Agent Bristow to go over her mission, but I can't get a hold of her. Do you have any information on her mission to Cairo or her flight?"

"No, we haven't heard anything, but I can look up what flight she was on and check the airport schedule. You know, see if they're on time."  
  


"That'd be great."

"Just hold on a minute."

Vaughn waited. Maybe she was asleep. Maybe her cell phone needed a new battery. Maybe…

"Vaughn, you still there?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

"She wasn't on her scheduled flight, but…"

Oh, God. What if…

"…just let me check…Yeah. Kate Jones took the flight just before that one; it landed a few hours ago. You've got to love this government clearance; working for the CIA you can find out almost anything."

Vaughn let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. She had taken an earlier flight home. "Thanks, Weiss. I've got to go."

"No problem. Bye."

Vaughn hung up, relieved. At least he knew she had gotten home okay.

Just to know that should have been enough. He should have stopped there, maybe try to call her again in a few hours, maybe just wait until tomorrow. He knew that she had arrived in LA safely, and as her handler, he should have just admitted that he couldn't contact his agent and left it at that.

But he couldn't. He cared about her more deeply than that, and not knowing where she was and if she was all right was tearing him apart. It shouldn't have to be like this. If he was concerned about the woman he cared for, he should be able to simply drive over to her house and check on her.

But he couldn't…No, he wasn't supposed to. If he really wanted to drive over to her house, who would stop him? He didn't give a damn about the agent/handler protocol. If that had been the only reason that he wasn't allowed to face her in public, he would be at her house by now.

There were other reasons. Maybe she was angry with him. Why else wouldn't she answer the phone. Maybe the kiss had been a mistake. But if it was, why had it felt so right? Why had she looked at him with such longing when she had been forced to leave?

Vaughn remembered the look in her eyes and knew she wasn't angry with him, but he knew that something else must be wrong. Something was bothering her, something was making her not want to answer the phone. He wished that he knew what it was. He shouldn't be sitting in his house worrying about her; he should be at her house, holding her in his arms, comforting her and telling her that everything would be all right.

But by doing that, he could put her in danger. If her roommate came home and saw them together, they might be able to come up with a story, a lie. She would hate that, having to lie to her friends again, but at least she would still be alive.

If SD-6 had any type of surveillance in her house, however, he would be blowing her cover. Then she would never be able to take down SD-6, and just by talking to her, he would have jeopardized everything that she had worked so hard for. She would have suffered every single cut and bruise from her trips, and told all the lies for nothing. SD-6 would still be operating and she would be in big trouble. If they were lucky, they would be able to get her out, to get her into the witness protection program before SD-6 could hurt her. If they weren't lucky, she would be killed by SD-6 and he would lose her forever.

Vaughn sat at his desk, feeling helpless and confused. He could think of a thousand and one reasons why he couldn't, shouldn't go to her, and only one why he should: he loved her than anything, more than life itself.

And half an hour later, he found himself standing outside Sydney Bristow's bathroom door. That one reason had won over all the others; he loved her too much to stay away.


	11. Heartache

The Dream

Chapter 11: Heartache

He stepped inside, slowly closing the door behind him. Concern clouded his face when he saw the tears in her eyes, but he remained standing by the door, unsure of what to do. Should he run to her and gather her into his arms and tell her that everything would be all right? Should he kiss her deeply and passionately, or should he run away?

Sydney was torn between two emotions. Part of her felt like rejoicing at the fact that Vaughn was actually in her house, but she also wanted to cry because it seemed like a cruel joke. True, he was standing in her bathroom, but they needed the noises of the TV and the shower to hide the fact that he was there, and he would have to leave soon; too soon, and would probably never be able to come back.

She still couldn't find her voice, but finally managed a whisper, "Vaughn?"

Vaughn didn't know what to say. It had taken him a few minutes to find the courage to even knock on her bathroom door while the shower was running, but when he had heard her muffled sob, he hadn't stopped to think; he just walked in.

Once inside, however, he didn't know what to do. "I…I could leave if…if you don't want me here." He turned around and put his hand on the doorknob.

"No!" Sydney whispered harshly, her voice breaking as she fought back the tears that were choking her. "Please…"

He turned to face her. The sadness and longing in her eyes speaking louder than any words she could have uttered.

She held out her hand and Vaughn took it and sat down next to her. "Are you all right?" he asked tenderly.

Sydney shook her head. She tightened her grip on his hand and it was only then that he noticed she was shaking. Vaughn turned to her; her head was cast downward and her hair hid her face from view, but he noticed a single tear fall into her lap.

Seeing her like this made him want to cry. He was a typical guy, and it took a lot to make him cry, but he would have at that moment if he hadn't known that he needed to remain strong for her, to comfort her. He brushed her hair away from her face and turned her head towards him. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she made an effort to wipe them away, but he put a hand up to stop her.

He brought her face to his chest and put his arms around her, gently rocking her as she finally broke down and let the tears overcome her.

A little later, when Sydney's sobs subsided, Vaughn softly kissed the top of her head. He kept his arm around her, but pulled back, and she placed her head on his shoulder.

She brought her hand to his shirt, gently fingering the material. "I'm sorry I got your shirt wet," she murmured.

"I don't care about a damn shirt," he responded as he took her hand. "I only care about you…What's wrong?"

Sydney started to pull away from him, but he only held her tighter, afraid that if he let her go, he'd lose her forever. "Don't," he pleaded, looking down into her eyes. He paused before continuing, carefully selecting his words so he wouldn't upset her again. "Did you complete your mission?"

"Yes," she answered, still whispering.

"So, you think you found the guy?"

"I know I did."

"That's good. I know it may not seem like a lot, but that brings us one step closer to shutting down SD-6."

"He was a bastard."

"What?"

"The guy. He was a bastard, that's how I knew he was the one." Vaughn didn't know what to say, but after a minute she continued. "He touched me. It was only my arm, but he was greasy and filthy and…" She shuddered with the memory.

"I'm sorry," Vaughn murmured.

"No," she responded, moving away from him before he could pull her back and turning to face him. She continued, her voice finally rising above a whisper. "I walked away, but that pervert sent someone after me. He…"

"Are you okay?" Vaughn interrupted.

"No, I mean yes! Of course I'm okay! I'm fine, I'm great, I'm always okay! Every time someone asks…"

With every word, Sydney was getting more and more worked up; he had obviously picked the wrong subject to talk about. Vaughn didn't know what else to do, so he did the first thing that came to mind. He leaned forward and captured her lips with his.

The kiss was gentle, and lasted for only a moment. Vaughn rejoiced at the fact that she didn't pull away and even allowed him to pull her into his lap afterwards. 

He wished that he could take her somewhere else, that he could bring her somewhere more comfortable than the hard, cold tile of the bathroom floor, but he knew that this was the best he could do.

The house was silent except for the running water of the shower and the droning of the TV in the other room. He felt her breathing become steady, as she played with his fingers, intertwining them with her own.

"Sydney," Vaughn finally whispered. "What's wrong?"

"I'm tired," she murmured, letting go of his hand. "I'm tired of lying." She sighed and continued. "They're not just the little white lies. Most people have a hard enough time with those. But, God, I can show the people at the airport a passport with someone else's name on it, and tell my friends that I'm going to San Diego on a business trip for the bank without a second thought. I can pretend I don't want to rip Sloane's heart out of his chest and let Dixon think he's working for the good guys."

She stopped speaking and moved out of his arms. He reluctantly let her go, and she turned to face him. "But that's not the worst of it. I could live with all those lies if it weren't for…" she paused and looked down. "If it weren't for us…If we weren't a lie."

Vaughn felt his muscles become tense. The mere inches that separated them seemed to have widened to a mile. He wanted to close the distance between them before it widened even further and almost threw himself on her with a bruising, breathtaking kiss to let loose his passion. He longed to let her know that his feelings for her were true, that his love for her was not a lie.

But Sydney began speaking again, and he let her continue, knowing that she needed to talk to someone and he was the only one she could talk to. "We can't be together like normal people can, Vaughn. It's against CIA protocol and it could even get us killed. I…" Tears started to form in her eyes again and she was struggling to keep her voice under control. "I can't stand not being able to call you, or invite you over…We'll never get to call in sick together, and I can't put your picture on my desk at work…I finally figured out why I turned away from you in Spain. Unless we're in the warehouse, that's always what I'll have to do. I'll never be able to face you until SD-6 is brought down and that's too long to wait."

She stopped talking and gazed deeply into his eyes. A torrent of emotions flashed through her own: anger, sadness, longing. She looked down again and he understood how she felt. Why did life have to be so indifferent, so cruel? 

"Sydney," he took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he had to say next. "I want you to know that I love you more than anything else in the world and I would do anything for you. If you want me to…to leave, to ask the Agency to assign you a new handler, I will."

Vaughn waited, praying that she'd say no, that she'd never want him to leave her.

The seconds crawled by; the air became suffocating and the laughter from the TV seemed to mock him. Sydney looked up at him, but Vaughn could no longer read the emotions in her eyes.  


	12. The Decision

The Dream

Chapter 12: The Decision

Silence. Bitter silence.

Sydney no longer heard the shower or the TV. The silence was choking her, mocking her. It stole her voice and would not give it back. But that was just as well, because even if she could speak, she couldn't find the words. She couldn't think, didn't know what to say.

Inside she was screaming. The blood seemed to explode through her veins. Her heart was shrieking its answer; she could almost hear it pleading with her brain. But Vaughn couldn't hear words that weren't spoken, and she couldn't make the words come to her mouth. She looked away from him.

The silence was clawing at her, driving her insane. Sydney felt like she was being tortured. This was worse than having her tooth pulled without Novocain, worse than feeling Sakkoulas' tongue slither up her face, worse than any form of pain or torture that had ever been inflicted upon her.

She could only wait. Wait until she could form the words that were screaming inside of her. God damn it! Why couldn't she speak?! She had remembered Chinese when two men were kicking her to the ground, why the hell couldn't she even speak English now? She would have shouted the first words she thought of, whether they were Italian, Russian, Arabic, anything; but not a single word came to mind. She would have blinked a message at him, for God's sake, but she couldn't remember a damn letter of Morse code. She seemed to have lost all ability to communicate, except with her eyes.

The seconds ticked by painfully.

Silence. There were no words, no sounds except for the shower and the television, which seemed to be dueling for Vaughn's attention, offering their opinions of the situation. One mocked him with its indifferent laughter; the other showed its sympathy by pouring out endless tears.

Why wasn't she speaking? Why wouldn't she answer him? He wanted her to say something, anything. He desperately wished that it hadn't happened like this, that when he had asked if she wanted him to leave, she had given him an emphatic no, thrown herself on him, begged him to stay.

But with every second that passed that scenario became more unlikely, until it seemed to have washed down the drain with all his other dreams. Now, he just wished that she'd say or do anything to let him know what she was thinking. He didn't know how much longer he could wait for an answer. He didn't know whether he should take her into his arms, or walk out of the bathroom and out of her life forever.

Finally, Sydney looked up at Vaughn. This time he could read her emotions, and see the pain in her eyes; the pain that he knew was reflected in his own.

Vaughn struggled to keep his arms at his sides and his hands to himself. He almost hated himself for adding to her pain, and wanted to gather her close to him and comfort her. But he couldn't take back what had been said; he couldn't deny the truth. Sydney was right; they wouldn't be able to truly be together until SD-6 was destroyed, and that could take days, months, years, even a lifetime.

He could settle with that if he had to, with not truly being together, with being part secret, part lie, because no matter what their feelings would be true. He wouldn't be completely satisfied with having to be like that, but he could and would wait forever for her, no matter what she said tonight.

But he couldn't put her through that, cause her more pain. If the lies were too much for her, he would let her go. He would leave forever, taking with him only the memories. He would leave her because he loved her, but he would still wait for her forever.

Vaughn had to look away from her. He was dangerously close to losing control of himself, of breaking the silence and cutting the tension. If he looked for one more second into her eyes, he would throw his arms around her and bring his lips to hers. He couldn't do that, though, he had to let her make her own decision.

In reality, only half a minute had passed, but to Sydney it seemed like an eternity. Tears of frustration were welling up in her eyes and she gave up trying to speak. She needed to somehow give him her answer without words.

Silence. The time passed, indifferently zooming by her. Sydney tried frantically to think, but couldn't. She finally gave in to her emotions, the beating of her heart and the screaming of her skin. Vaughn still wasn't looking at her as she quickly moved forward. Crashing her lips against his and putting her arms around him, she let the passion pour from her lips in response to his question.

Vaughn was surprised at first, but eagerly responded to her kiss and embrace, his delight in her answer clearly evident.

Sydney's lungs were on fire and she pulled away for air. Gazing deeply into his eyes, she whispered, "Never."

Vaughn lifted her onto his lap. Her hands were still clasped around his neck and she rested her head on his shoulder. Neither of them uttered a word, but this time the silence was peaceful, not unbearable. He felt her heartbeat gradually return to normal and her breathing become slower. Why couldn't they stay that way forever?

"Vau…Michael?" Sydney asked tentatively, smiling as she heard him sigh with satisfaction at her use of his first name "What are we going to do?"

Vaughn paused a minute before answering. "We wait and treasure the few secret moments we have. It won't be easy…"

"But then nothing I do ever is," she interrupted, as she took her arms from around his neck.

He turned to face her, and gazed deeply into her eyes, his lips only inches from hers. "God, you're beautiful," he murmured.

She answered by kissing him gently and slowly pulling away, never taking her eyes from his.

"Are you sure you're ready to do this?" he asked gently.

Sydney smiled coyly and placed a slender hand on the back of his neck. "I think the question is, Mr. Vaughn, are you?"

He laughed softly and leaned toward her, bringing a hand up to run his fingers through her hair. His lips just brushed hers, when she pulled back suddenly. He was about to protest when she brought her fingers to his lips, and he kissed them lightly.

Sydney slowly brought her hand away, cocking her head and looking towards the door. When she finally spoke, her voice was just barely a whisper. "Do you hear that?"

Vaughn listened; it was more an absence of sound than a presence of one. It took him a moment to realize that he could no longer hear the laughter or the droning voices of the television.

They both sat perfectly still, almost afraid to breathe even though they knew that the running water of the shower would cover the noise.

Suddenly, Vaughn heard another sound: footsteps. He swore under his breath. Why did they always have to be interrupted? The footsteps became louder and then stopped right outside the bathroom door.

Next, he heard the soft tap of knuckles against wood and heard a voice, "Sydney?"

Vaughn looked at Sydney. The tears returned to her eyes, and she turned her gaze to the floor. "Dammit," she whispered, taking a deep breath and trying to come up with a plan, an excuse, a lie.

"Syd?" the voice called again.

Vaughn didn't know who was standing outside the door, but he had never hated a voice more in his entire life.


	13. The Interruption

The Dream

Chapter 13: The Interruption

A/N: This is set before everything of The Prophecy and Q & A.

"Sydney?" Vaughn asked in a whisper. She looked up at him; his eyes silently questioned her, asking her what to do. He brought a hand up to her face, cradling her cheek. She leaned into his touch, sighing. Then she took his hand and kissed it, and leaned closer to him.

"When I turn off the water, you get in the shower and stay there. Be quiet."

"I know," he answered.

"Syd?" the voice called again, and the knocking became louder.

"God damn it!" Sydney whispered angrily and then said in a louder, more cheerful tone, "Just a minute!"

Vaughn stood up. "You ready?"

Sydney nodded and opened the shower curtain. She reached in to turn off the water, but then stopped. She stuck her head in the shower for a moment, letting the drops of water pound on the top of her head and then run down her face like tears.

"Hey…" Vaughn whispered, and she felt his hand on her elbow as he pulled her towards him. She could hear the concern in his voice, but the look in his eyes was asking her what the hell she was doing.

The water was streaming down her face. She wanted to laugh, but instead smiled and murmured, "I need to look like I was taking a shower."

Vaughn only nodded and brought his fingers up to brush the wet hair out of her eyes. Sydney's shirt was soaked and she shivered. She wished Vaughn would hold her, warm her, and almost moved forward into his arms.

Then she heard the footsteps pacing outside the door.

"Can you hand me that bathrobe?" she whispered, pointing.

Vaughn turned in the direction in which she was pointing, walked over to it, picked up the bathrobe, and turned around to hand it to Sydney. When he turned, she was no longer face to face with him, but more importantly, she was no longer clothed.

Well, that wasn't entirely true, she still had her pants on, but she had taken off her shirt, and the skin on her back looked so smooth and inviting…

"Oh my God!" Vaughn thought, "I'm going to lose it." But he couldn't. He had to keep some semblance of control. He could control her breathing, her pulse, her laughter, her smiles…But no, he had to control himself and the urge to run his hands, his lips over her bare flesh…

Staying as far away from her as he could and averting his eyes, Vaughn handed her the bathrobe, almost throwing it at her. He barely heard her whispered thanks. Fortunately, she kept her back to him and put on the bathrobe before quickly removing her pants and tying the robe.

Vaughn looked back at Sydney. He knew he shouldn't be looking at her, but he couldn't keep his eyes off her. He kept picturing what she would look like without the robe. He was staring, he knew he was staring. She had turned around. Shit! Now, she knew he was staring. Why couldn't he make himself look away?

He was staring at her. His eyes seemed to be boring holes into her flesh. Sydney thought she would melt. 

There was only one thing she could do to keep herself from running at him. She averted her eyes and concentrated her thoughts on the objective, on what needed to get done. Hide Vaughn, answer door, make person at door go away. This is how she got through every single one of her operations; this was her "mission mode." As long as she remained like that, she should be able to complete her objective without a problem.

She could still hear the pacing footsteps outside the door. They had to hurry. She looked toward Vaughn, but wouldn't let her eyes focus on his, or show any emotion. She hated to have to do that, but he would understand. He always did.

Sydney didn't even need to speak. Vaughn understood her unspoken words, her movements, her facial expressions, her eyes, and nodded to show that he was ready.

He walked over to the shower. Sydney was already there, hand poised to turn off the water. Her wet hair brushed back behind one ear, her dark eyes deep in concentration, her smooth skin next to the soft, white bathrobe, the delicate curve of her jaw…She was gorgeous, she was irresistible…She was turning off the water, and it was time for him to get in.

Vaughn silently slipped into the shower. He just saw Sydney nod in satisfaction before he closed the curtain. The footsteps outside the door had grown even more restless and there was another knock at the door.

"Coming," Sydney answered, and Vaughn heard her walk over to the door.

The door opened. There was a pause. Vaughn wished he could see who was there, who was interrupting them.

Finally Sydney's voice broke the silence, "Hey, Will. What are you doing here?"

Will. Sydney's friend Will. Sydney's friend Will who didn't have to see her in secret, who could see her, call her at any time of the day and had chosen now to come talk to her. If Will hadn't been Sydney's friend, if Vaughn hadn't known how much she cared about him, he seriously would have come out of hiding and given Will a piece of his mind.

But dammit, Will was Sydney's friend, and Vaughn didn't want to make her lie to her friends any more than she already had to, so he stayed where he was.

Will had started talking, the first time Vaughn had ever heard his voice, "Hey, um, I was just driving by and you know, there's this strange car parked outside. Is someone in there with you?"

Will had involuntarily done something very wrong by being concerned for Sydney, because in Vaughn's mind had been placed on the same list as Haladki. That sniveling, spying little weasel! Who the hell did he think he was?!

Vaughn's hand tightened into a fist. If Sydney hadn't started speaking at that moment, he wouldn't have remained in the shower much longer.

"Why would I take someone into the bathroom with me?" she asked slowly and coolly.

Damn that woman was good. She didn't even crack under pressure. Vaughn could picture what Sydney's face looked like as she said that. Will had no idea that Sydney could kick his ass in two seconds flat, and Vaughn almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

Then Will started to talk again. Couldn't he just shut up and go away?

"It's just that, um, I saw that car…"

"And so you just assumed that I took someone in the shower with me?" Sydney interrupted. She was trying really hard not to be completely pissed off, but Will was making it very difficult.

"Right, I mean no! Of course not! I would never…it's just…"

Sydney sighed. "Will, forget it. It's okay." She gave him a weak smile. He really didn't try to be a pain, that's just the way it turned out most of the time.

Will looked obviously relieved. Sydney was glad that he had dropped the idea of someone being in her shower. It would certainly be awkward if Will found Vaughn. She could just picture it: "No Will, I don't know how he got in here. Someone must have left the door open and he just wandered in…"

Yeah right.

Well, now that Will was satisfied that no one was in her bathroom it was time for him to leave. Because, now that Sydney was thinking about it, there were plenty of reasons to bring a person into your bathroom, especially if that person was Vaughn.

She sighed and smiled. Will was looking at her strangely. It was definitely time for him to leave. "Will, what are you doing here?" Sydney asked, almost sweetly. How do you kick your friend out without being rude?

"Oh, right. I have a story due tomorrow on Hemingway and all the libraries are kind of closed now. I know that you have all those old books…"

"My mom's books?"

"Yeah. I know that you really love those books and I promise I'll be really careful with them…"

She let her thoughts wander as Will babbled. Why did everything always have to come back to her mother? Sydney had never thought how that would affect her relationship with Vaughn. Damn Will for bringing it up. No, he didn't know, it wasn't his fault. Damn her mother. If it was anyone's fault, it was hers.

"Sure you can have them, Will. Spill coffee all over them, rip them up; I don't care."

"Thanks, Syd. You're a lifesaver."

"Don't mention it. Just hold on and I'll get you those books."

Sydney went into the other room and quickly grabbed a bunch of books off of a shelf. She hurried back to Will, but he was not where she had left him.

"Will?" she called, praying that he'd answer from the kitchen, the living room, Francie's room, just not the bathroom.

"In here," he answered.

Great. He was in the bathroom.

Sydney walked over to the door. Her heart was beating so hard that it was giving her a headache. 

She hadn't heard any fighting, so Will couldn't have found Vaughn. At least she hoped that he hadn't.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she found Will looking in the mirror. "Here," she said, handing him the books. "There's a book of short stories and some novels."

"Thanks a lot. I promise I'll be really careful…"

"Don't worry about it. Well, you had better go and get started on that story."

Will nodded, but didn't move.

God, couldn't he take a hint? She resisted the temptation to look over at the shower, to where she knew Vaughn would be standing. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, I'll bring these back tomorrow." Will walked over to the door, and then stopped and looked around the bathroom. "You know, it smells really nice in here. Like cologne or something. Did you get some new air freshener?"

Yeah, it's a new scent called Michael Vaughn. Sydney almost laughed, but was able to look at Will and seriously respond, "Yeah, it was something new I saw at the store and decided to give it a try."

"Smells good…Well, I've got to go."

Thank God.

Will gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and walked past her. When he reached the door he turned and said goodbye. Sydney waved back. She smiled as she walked out the door and finally shut it behind him.

Was it wrong of her to be so glad to see him go?

Sydney quickly decided it wasn't, and locked the door. She could hear the running water of the shower; Vaughn must have gotten out and turned it back on. She walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

Before she could turn around and face him, Vaughn had her in his arms. It felt so good to be so close to him, to be held by him. She shivered as she felt him kiss the back of her neck. Then she felt his breath against her ear.

"Where were we?" he whispered.

A/N: I could keep writing this fic forever, but you would all probably start to get bored of it, so I think I'll end it in the next chapter. Please let me know what you think, and thanks so much for reading.


	14. Declaration of Love

The Dream

Chapter 14: Declaration of Love

A/N: Sorry it took so long to post this chapter, but I've been really busy since softball started, and my teachers either seem to think that I have absolutely no life outside of school, or that there are somehow more hours in the day in which to finish all the stupid work they give me. Anyway…You know how it is, and I'm sure you don't really care about this, and would much rather read the story, so I'll finish babbling later.

His strong arms around her, holding her, protecting her; his lips almost touching her ear. Sydney thought that she was going to melt. Just the fact that he was there, that he had his arms around her, was making her dizzy. He was tantalizing all of her senses. The touch of his hands, his breath against her ear, his scent…Will was right. God, Vaughn smelled good.

The only sense that wasn't satisfied was taste. She turned to capture his lips. Her thoughts were racing dizzily through her head, and her mind was having trouble keeping up with them.

Her brain caught up with her thoughts just as her lips were about to brush his. She stopped. She wanted so badly to forget everything, everything except him. Just for an hour, a minute, a second.

But she couldn't tease herself; she couldn't forget. Her life would always come back to her, to haunt her. She could kiss him later, if he still wanted to, but first they needed to talk.

Sydney was in his arms and he was rejoicing. He could have held her like that forever.

Vaughn felt Sydney relax in his embrace and lean back against him. To hold her felt so right, she belonged near him, with him, in his arms. It was paradise; no, it was better.

She turned to him, to bring her lips to his, but stopped. Vaughn felt her become tense.

"Wait," Sydney whispered, and then added in a tone so low that Vaughn almost didn't hear it, "Please"

He would do anything she asked, anything she wanted. She had had a rough day…no, she had had a rough life, and it seemed to be catching up with her. There was only so much one woman could take. Vaughn wished he could stay with her that night and simply hold her, comfort her. But he couldn't and he knew it, so he had to do his best to comfort her now, while he had the chance.

He slowly, gently turned Sydney around so that he could face her and look into her eyes. He brought one hand up to her cheek and softly kissed her forehead. Then he did as she asked; he waited.

"Will…" Sydney began.

"Is gone," Vaughn interrupted her. "Don't worry, he didn't see me."

"No, I know. It's just that he came here to borrow those books…"

"Your mother's books."

"My mother's books," Sydney repeated. "My mother…" She trailed off and looked away.

Vaughn watched Sydney for a moment. He could see the pain in her eyes. It took him a moment to realize the cause of it. Her mother, his father…God, the thought hadn't even crossed his mind. That it would pain her, that she thought it would hurt him…

"Sydney." Her hair had fallen over her face and he gently brushed it back behind her ear. He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes. "I hadn't even thought of it."

"Vaughn, she's a part of me. I have her plates, her pictures, her memories, her blood. I have those books with the damn codes. The codes that…that…"

"Sydney," Vaughn interrupted her. "What your mother did was…" He paused for a moment, searching for the right word. He didn't want to say something that was too harsh, that would upset Sydney further. But what her mother did wasn't her fault and she needed to understand that.

Luckily, she saved him from having to choose a word. "Terrible," she whispered.

Vaughn nodded slightly; that was the word he had been thinking of. "But, Sydney, you are not your mother."

"I look just like her. Doesn't that bother you?"

She looked away and he brought his hand to her cheek, tilting her head up again, but this time, not taking his hand away from her face.

"I don't give a damn who you look like. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. Even if you do look just like your mother, or like anyone else in the world, you would still be so different from them, so much better. Sydney, you're smart, funny, resourceful, and you're strong. And not just physically, even though you probably could kick my ass."

Sydney gave him a small smile and he almost forgot to breathe.

Vaughn paused for a moment before continuing; he simply looked at her, wishing that he never had to take his eyes off of her again.

"Your mom, my dad," he continued. "None of that matters. All that matters is you and me, and I would never let that come between us; I would never, could never hold that against you…We won't always be able to be together, but we'll always have now."

Her eyes were shining with unshed tears and her cheeks were flushed a light red. Vaughn hadn't thought it was possible for her to become any more beautiful; he had been wrong. God, he wanted to kiss her.

But he held back and continued, "Sydney, I love you too much to let you go; I could never lie about that."

He had just poured out his heart to her, but how would she take it? There were some women, like Alice and almost ever other girl he had ever been with, who would dismiss this sort of speech as superficial and untrue. But he knew Sydney was different, and he had truly meant every word.

"Wow," Sydney finally whispered.

"What?"

"You…You're amazing."

"I am not amazing…"

He was blushing; he could feel the blood rising to his face. Her smile grew wider and he became an even darker shade of red. He loved it, that she could have this effect on him, and that he could make her smile. Just to see her smile made everything, the secrets, the little lies, all of it, worth it.

Michael Vaughn looked even more irresistible when he was blushing. Sydney found herself thanking God that she had been lucky enough to find this man. She had loved Danny, she still did. She couldn't compare them, say which she loved more; she didn't want to and knew that Vaughn wouldn't ever ask her to.

What she had with Danny had been special, but this was too. Vaughn knew everything about her, everything. She hadn't been able to say that about anyone in over seven years. And the fact that he knew everything and loved her in spite of it all…Damn, she wasn't going to let him get away.

Suddenly, Sydney realized that her lips were just inches…no less than that, because even as she thought of it, she was moving forward; they were centimeters, millimeters, away from his.

Then her lips were on his and he opened his mouth to her. She kissed him, and then she lost it. Every conscious thought, every worry was gone.

Her hands, his hands, were everywhere. His shirt became an obstruction and she quickly removed it. He pulled away and looked into her eyes, silently asking permission to take off her robe, and she nodded. He brought a hand up to her shoulder to pull the robe away, but paused and looked back at her.

She could see the desire smoldering in his gorgeous green eyes, but found something else there too. Concern flashed through the desire, the passion, but there was also something deeper: love. She had trusted him before, when he had told her that he loved her, but now she knew for sure.

It was difficult for her to easily trust the people in her life. People could lie; they could sit poker-faced and hide their emotions, but when they did let their emotions show through…People could lie, but their eyes never did.

"Sydney," Vaughn asked softly, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

He cared so much for her; he was so sweet that she almost started to cry. She was melting, she was dizzy, she was in heaven and she never wanted this moment to end. She wanted this; she needed this, this moment, this truth. But it too would all be a lie if she didn't act on her true feelings, if she didn't show him how much she loved him.

She responded by taking his hand and guiding it to her shoulder. Never taking her eyes from his, she pressed his fingers to the soft material and pushed his hand down, baring her smooth skin. Then she let go of his hand and pulled him back to her for a breathtaking, mind-numbing kiss.

It was better than anything she had ever dreamed of.

They both knew that there wasn't much time, and they didn't know exactly when they'd have another chance to be together. It was over quickly, but they had savored every precious second that they had together.

Sydney sat with Vaughn's arms around her. He truly was amazing.

Vaughn softly kissed the back of her head. They both knew that he needed to leave; he couldn't be there when Francie came home, but neither wanted to be the one to actually say the words.

Together, as if they were synchronized and could read each other's thoughts, they stood up and began slowly getting dressed. Vaughn finished before Sydney and pulled her close to him for one last kiss. The suddenness and the passion of it took her breath away and when he finally let go of her, she was gasping for air.

She looked at him and could see the desire still haunting his eyes. "I love you," he whispered. "Don't ever forget that."

Before she could respond, he kissed her gently on the forehead and left, without turning back. But Sydney knew that it was only because he wouldn't be able to leave if he looked at her again. She felt the same way, and although it hurt her that he hadn't been able to turn and wave, she was glad that he didn't because if she had looked into his eyes again, she wouldn't have been able to let him go.

The dream had been realized; they had declared their love for each other, but then he had had to leave.

One of them would always have to leave. That's the way it would have to be until…until SD-6 was brought down, until she could stop lying. But God, who the hell knew when that would be.

Sydney decided that it didn't matter. A day, a year, half a lifetime; she would always wait for the time when she could be with him without secrets, without worries; when she could stay with him all night and all day for every night and every day for the rest of her life.

A/N: I hope that was worth the wait. Thank you so much to everyone reading my story and especially to those who reviewed it. You guys are great.

Well, anyone who wants the story to end here can just stop reading it. As for the rest of you, as long as you keep reading and reviewing, I'll continue for a few more chapters. Besides, I came up with an idea that fits nicely with this story, and I love to write. Anyway, the summary does say that the dream will **slowly** become a reality, so I'll just make it take a little longer to get there.

Thanks again to all those who reviewed, especially the last chapter. You really made my day.


	15. A Paper Bag

The Dream

Chapter 15: A Paper Bag

Vaughn sat at his desk, slowly twirling his coin in his fingers, watching as the light reflected off of it and danced around the room. He put the coin down, bringing a hand up to rub his forehead.

He was tired; he didn't get much sleep last night, or the night before. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember the last time he had actually slept through the night.

Vaughn sighed. What was he, a newborn? He recalled with a smile what his mother would always say about him when the subject of children and babies came up at family gatherings: "My Michael was always such a good baby. He never had any trouble sleeping through the night." To this his aunts and uncles would always say something to the extent of, "How unusual!" or "Remarkable!"

Well, he might have actually slept through the night when he was a baby, but he was sure paying for it now.

It had been a few months, no, almost a year since he had left Sydney's house that night, but he remembered it like it was yesterday. He would never forget the tears in her eyes when he first saw her, and the way she had clung to him, sobbing. He would never forget the surprise and elation he felt when her lips came crashing against his. And he would never forget what happened after that.

He couldn't always be there for her, but he had been there then and that's what mattered. He had hated having to leave her; he still hated to do it. Every time he had to turn away from her and close the door between them, every time she walked away, the clicking of her heels becoming softer as the distance between them grew…

But the next time they would meet, when he listened with anticipation for her footsteps, almost forgetting to breathe when she came into view, her dazzling smile seeming to light up the darkened warehouse.

Those were the good days. The days she came to him smiling and he thanked God for allowing her to have some happiness in her life.

He never knew what to expect when she would come walking into the warehouse. Well, he didn't at first. Now, he had was able to predict her mood by listening to her footsteps as she walked in. Light and quick, and she would come to him smiling; heavy and determined, and she would appear with her face flushed and the anger still smoldering in her eyes; slow and dragging, and there would be sadness and tears.

He could read her eyes too, but only if she let him. Sometimes, she didn't want him to worry and wouldn't show him how she truly felt. It just seemed more fitting that he could tell her emotions by listening to her walk; she always had to walk toward or away from him. 

Most of the time he was ready for her. Her footsteps prepared him, and he would know whether he should have his arms outstretched and the tissues ready, or he should pull her in close for the breathtaking kiss that he knew would melt away her anger.

But sometimes, she would surprise him; she was unpredictable.

Once, Vaughn had been ready to dry her tears, but she appeared with a smile. "Did you have a nice day," he had asked.

"No," she had answered, stopping a few feet away from him.

He had been about to ask her why she was smiling, when she ran forward and threw her arms around him.

"But it just got a lot better," she had whispered in his ear, and then she had kissed him.

They usually tried to put business before pleasure, talk and get the counter-mission out of the way. But sometimes pleasure came first.

At least it did at the warehouse, where he usually tried to meet her now. They both liked it better that way. Sometimes it was unavoidable, and to avert suspicion he would find himself sitting near her on a bench in a park, or browsing through the books at the library, voice low, and eyes always cast downward.

She never asked him not to arrange meetings like that; she never said anything, never complained. But he knew that she hated it, not being able to look into his eyes. He hated it too, but he didn't care about himself; he only cared about her.

He wouldn't arrange those secret, public briefings at all if he could have helped it, but he knew that the more she went to the warehouse, the more likely she was to be caught. He didn't want to think about what SD-6 might do to her if they caught her, so he dealt with those few moments of not being able to look at her, not being able to touch her. He met her outside of the warehouse, he gave her the counter-mission, and he waited until he could see her again.

He had become very good at waiting, and Sydney made it all worth it. He was still so much in love with her that it hurt. There were times when she would approach him and he wouldn't be able to think straight; he was in awe of her. She was the reason he couldn't sleep at night. But it was worth it to lie awake, thinking about her. He worried about her every time she went on a mission, but he even worried when she was in LA. Anything could happen to her, even while she was just at home, and he wouldn't be there to help her.

He wanted to be able to be her knight in shining armor and sweep her off her feet and away from wherever the danger was; he wanted to protect her from anything and everything. But in order to do that, he had to be able to see her for more than a couple of hours a few times a week. And it was that thought, more than lack of sleep that was making him absentmindedly twirl his coin. He had held and examined and spun the damn thing so many times, he was surprised that it hadn't melted.

Vaughn put the coin down and sighed, glancing at the clock in his office. It was 5:01, two minutes since he had last looked. He wondered if Sydney had gotten an assignment today from SD-6. He hadn't seen her for almost five days and he didn't think he could take it for much longer.

He wanted her to go on a mission because that meant he would be entitled to at least two meetings with her, and probably more if he could think of a good enough excuse. But he also didn't want her to go. He felt like every time he gave her a counter-mission, he was sending her off to her death, but he never thought of asking her not to go. He could never do that because of what SD-6 might do to her, because of Danny…

"Hey, lover boy," a voice called.

Vaughn straightened up in his chair and looked towards the door. He hadn't even realized that Weiss had opened it and was standing in the doorway. He relaxed again and Weiss continued.

"I have a message from your girlfriend."

"I don't have a girlfriend," Vaughn replied flatly. He hated having to say that.

 "You just looked like you were daydreaming about someone."

Before Vaughn could argue, Weiss stepped in his office and waved a crumpled paper bag in the air. "We just got this from Sydney. She's going to…"

Vaughn jumped out of his chair and sprang toward Weiss. "Give me that," he demanded, reaching for the bag.

"Whoa…" Weiss backed away, pulling the paper bag out of his reach. "Calm down, man. You know, I've never seen anyone get so excited over a paper bag. Are you sure she's not your girlfriend?"

Vaughn shot him a look and grabbed the bag. He quickly scanned the first few lines.

"She's going to Cairo again?" he asked without looking up.

"Yeah," Weiss answered, taking a step towards him. "They've scheduled a rendezvous with…"

"Shh!" Vaughn waved a hand at his friend. Weiss gave him a strange look, but he didn't notice.

Vaughn read the note twice before looking up at Weiss. "Are you sure this is the right bag?"

"You know, I don't know. I'm sure lots of people write on bags asking for counter-missions and then throw them away. Let me go ask if…" His sarcastic remark earned an icy stare from Vaughn, and Weiss trailed off and backed away again. "Yeah, it's the right bag."

"This isn't a joke?" Vaughn asked, waving the paper bag in his friend's face.

Weiss shook his head. "What's wrong?"

"Sydney says she's meeting with…"

"Fahim," Weiss interrupted. "I know, I read it already."  
  


"Ahmed Fahim."

"Yeah, how many Fahim's do you think I know?…Ahmed Fahim. So?"

Vaughn thought back to that night almost a year ago, the night he would never forget.

~~~

"So, you think you found the guy?"

"I know I did."

"That's good. I know it may not seem like a lot, but that brings us one step closer to shutting down SD-6."

"He was a bastard."

"What?"

"The guy. He was a bastard, that's how I knew he was the one…He touched me. It was only my arm, but he was greasy and filthy and…"

~~~

Weiss cleared his throat, forcing Vaughn back to the present.

"She's met with him before, a year ago," he finally said.  
  


"I know," Weiss responded. "And she had met with Hassan before she went to Cuba. What's the big deal?"

"I don't know…She just didn't seem to like him much…"

"I don't think she liked Hassan much either. Him blowing that guy away probably didn't help much, but…"

"Forget it," Vaughn said with a sigh. He sat back down in his chair. "I have to think of a counter-mission, so if you don't have any ideas…" He motioned towards the door and picked up his coin again.

Weiss walked over to his desk and snatched the coin out of Vaughn's hand. "Okay, give me that damn thing. Did you even read past that guy's name?"

"Of course. Why?" Vaughn asked, reaching for the coin.

Weiss put it on the desk. "Leave it there," he commanded, and pointed to the paper bag. "Read that line again…There, second to last sentence."

Vaughn followed Weiss' finger and read the sentence.

And then he read it again.

How the hell could he have missed that?

A/N: Well, I hope you're still enjoying it. Don't worry, it should get more interesting in the next chapter or so. It's too hot to think too much; it should be illegal to have 95-degree weather in April. To all my reviewers: I still think you're great! Thanks so much and please keep it up.


	16. Pizza Anyone?

The Dream

Chapter 16: Pizza Anyone?

Sydney walked in the door and collapsed on the couch. Francie wasn't home yet, and she had some time to revel in the peace and quiet of her empty house. It had been a long day.

As she sat back on the couch, she let her thoughts wander to Vaughn. That had been happening a lot lately. When Francie was telling her about her day at work, when Marshall was explaining one of his gadgets, when she was in the middle of connecting her heel with some guy's forehead…Vaughn, Vaughn, always Vaughn. Those thoughts were the only ones that brought her any comfort or pleasure anymore.

She didn't want to have to go on another mission, but at least she would be able to see him soon. And with any luck, this mission would be her last.

She glanced at the clock. It was 5:01. Was Vaughn still at work? Did he have a nine to five workday? Did he like to stay late at the office? She didn't know. It had never come up in conversation. Their first few weeks together, she had asked him endless questions. She knew what his favorite kind of ice cream was, where he took his suits to be dry cleaned, and how he liked his eggs in the morning, but she didn't know his work hours. Somehow, they had always shied away from talking about work. Too much of what they did or didn't and couldn't do involved their jobs with the CIA and SD-6. They didn't need to mix business with pleasure anymore than it already was.

She absentmindedly brought her hand up to finger the gold charm on her necklace. Vaughn had given it to her a few months ago, and she never took it off.

She had been about to leave for Turkey and told him she wished that she could be with him. He had called her in the middle of the night via Joey's Pizza. She had arrived at the warehouse expecting him to announce a change in her counter-mission. Instead, he had told her to turn around and had fastened the delicate gold chain around her neck. Surprised, she had looked down at it, and a small golden angel twinkled back at her in the soft warehouse light. 

Vaughn had brushed her hair away from her ear and whispered, "Now, I'll always be with you. Your guardian angel."

She had melted in his arms, and needless to say, had been very tired when she had arrived in Turkey the next day…

Sydney woke with a start when the telephone rang. She reached over to pick up the receiver, when the ringing stopped.

"Hello?" came the sound Francie's voice from the other room.

Sydney looked at her watch. It was almost seven thirty. She sat up and held her breath, waiting for what Francie would say next.

"Actually, this is Frank's Pizza, but our sauce is much better than Joey's."

With those words, the phone slammed down and Sydney smiled and leaned back on the couch. Francie came walking through the living room carrying a basket of laundry, but stopped when she saw Sydney.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No. I heard the phone ring."

"It was that damn Joey's Pizza again. You know, maybe I should open a pizza place. I bet I would make a lot of money."

Sydney smiled and stood up. "I had such an awful day. Pizza actually sounds really good right now." She picked up her keys and walked towards the door. "You want anything while I'm out?"

"Yeah, can you get some laundry detergent; we're almost out," Francie answered as she started to walk out of the room.

"Sure. See you in a little while."

"Bye, and make sure you get pepperoni on the pizza!"

Vaughn nervously paced back and forth in the darkened warehouse. The pale light played tricks with his shadow, throwing it this way and that across the room. He glanced at his watch for at least the twentieth time in the last five minutes and sighed.

He finally sat down on a crate, anxiously tapping his foot. He had memorized Sydney's note by now and was replaying it in his mind, still wondering if it was real.

As soon as Weiss had pointed out the importance of the last few lines, Vaughn had quickly thought up a counter-mission. It had taken him a little time to convince Devlin to agree to it, but somehow he had managed it, gathered up the materials he needed, and called Sydney. Her roommate had answered the phone, and had sounded a little pissed about having to answer to yet another Joey's Pizza call, but hopefully soon none of that would matter.

After what seemed like an eternity, Vaughn heard the door of the warehouse open, and Sydney's familiar footsteps coming towards him. He sprang up, not only to open the gate as a gentleman should for a lady, but also to be able to see Sydney as soon as possible.

She smiled when she saw him; he could just make out her dimples in the dim light.

"Sorry I took so long," she called as she approached him. "Francie wanted me to get some laundry detergent, and I knew I'd forget if I didn't get it first. Oh, and don't let me forget to get pizza; that's the reason I went out."

"Of course," Vaughn took her hand and then whispered, "And you know I'd wait forever for you."

Sydney flashed him another smile and lightly pressed her lips to his. "Keep talking like that Agent Vaughn, and we'll never get to my counter-mission."

"I know," he answered. He didn't want to talk to Sydney about operations and counter-missions, but if everything went according to plan this time, he wouldn't have to again.

Vaughn led her over to one of the crates and they both sat down. "You're going to Cairo again," he began, trying to find a way to lead into her counter-mission, enjoying every moment that he got to talk to her.

Sydney nodded. "I hear it's nice this time of year."

"You may want to check your source," Vaughn replied with a smile. "I don't think Cairo's nice any time of the year. At least not the part you're going to."

"Don't remind me," Sydney groaned.

"What do you remember about Ahmed Fahim?" Vaughn asked. He might as well just get this over with.

"I identified him almost a year ago as selling weapons to K-Directorate. His cover was a pottery vendor and he was in a market in Cairo. He's a little shorter than I am, with dark hair and dark eyes. He's intelligent and sly; he knew I was American even before I spoke. He's dirty and greasy; he likes to take advantage of women. After I met with him, he sent someone after me."

Vaughn might as well have asked her to recite the alphabet. She could have done it just as easily.

"You wrote that your mission is to retrieve information that Fahim has and Sloane wants…"

"Information that is vital to the survival of SD-6," Sydney interrupted, quoting from her message. "Those were Sloane's exact words."

So it was true. Vaughn had seen the words when she had written them, but he had been afraid to let them sink in. They both knew what the successful completion of this mission could mean for them, but were afraid to mention it, to get their hopes up.

"Did you notice anything strange about the way Sloane acted?" Vaughn asked, deciding to continue with business and not let his emotions get ahead of him.

"He seemed a little off, like he was distracted, bothered about something."

"And you don't know exactly what this information is, or what form it's going to come in?"

Sydney shook her head and looked away. "Sorry."

He took her hand and kissed it gently. "Don't be. It's not your fault."

She turned to face him. "So, what's my counter-mission."

"Here," he said, handing her a watch. "This is a communications device. When it's on, we'll be able to hear and record everything that happens. Now, it can go two ways, but if we contact you, whatever we say will be clearly audible to everyone, so we will only contact you when absolutely necessary. We would have given you a device with an ear piece, but we didn't want to give you anything that Fahim might recognize as a communications device and take away. You should be okay with this." 

"Who will be on the other end of this?" Sydney asked, motioning toward the watch. "Where will they be?"

"The agent on the other end will be staying in a hotel in Cairo, almost a mile from Fahim's compound, where they'll be able to respond quickly if anything goes wrong," he answered. "It took an awful lot of convincing, but Devlin agreed to let me go."

"Really?" She flashed him another one of her dimpled smiles. He loved seeing her so happy at the thought of them being separated by a mere mile instead of oceans and entire continents.

Vaughn smiled back and nodded. "Since we don't know if any documents or discs will accompany this information, try to make it clear in your conversation exactly what Fahim gives you. When you finish your interview, do not proceed directly back to Dixon. Find a place where you can be alone for a few minutes, and there I'll contact you and schedule a rendezvous for information exchange if need be."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

She leaned in and kissed him lightly, knowing they shouldn't take things too far. "I have to go before Francie starts wondering where I am. Maybe I'll see you in Cairo?"

Vaughn nodded and she stood up and walked away. She disappeared from his sight and he listened as her footsteps became softer. Suddenly he thought of something, and jumped up.

"Syd!" he called, jogging toward her.

She stopped and turned around, smiling. He caught up to her; she waited for him to speak, her deep, brown eyes gazing at him expectantly.

"God, you're beautiful. You can still take my breath away," Vaughn thought. He wanted to tell her that, but instead he said, "Don't forget to pick up your pizza."

"Thanks," Sydney responded. "I won't." She turned to walk away again, but Vaughn took her arm.

"I don't trust him."

"Me neither," Sydney replied, knowing, even without him saying it, that Vaughn was referring to Fahim.

"Please," Vaughn said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "Be careful."

"I always am."

"I know," Vaughn answered, tracing the faded outline of a bruise on her arm, a souvenir from her last operation. "I know. Just promise me."

Without taking her eyes from his, Sydney turned so she was directly in front of him, and moved forward so that they were separated by mere inches. She placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled his face down to hers.

She kissed him hungrily this time, ravishing his mouth and lips, taking his breath away.

Just before things got out of control, she slowly pulled away.

"I promise," she murmured, cupping Vaughn's cheek with her hand. They both waited in silence for a moment, simply enjoying the fact that they were together.

"If this mission is a success…" Sydney finally began.

"When," Vaughn interrupted her. "When this mission is a success."

"When," she repeated softly, a smile playing across her lips. "Will you make sure I never have to leave you again?"

"You know I will," he whispered, bringing a hand up to her face. "As soon as we use this information to take down SD-6, I'll take you in my arms, out where the whole world can see, and never let you go again."

With those words, he kissed her forehead softly, and she slowly turned and walked away.

Vaughn was about to call out after her with his conventional  wish for "good luck," but those weren't the words that left his lips.

"I love you," he called as Sydney was reaching for the door handle. He saw her hand falter and she turned to face him, fighting the impulse to run back into his arms.

"I know," she answered, smiling at him, as she turned and walked out the door.

A/N: Since it took me absolutely ages to post this chapter, I figured I'd let you read it before I put an author's note. I apologize for taking so long, but now that AP exams are finally over, I finally have my life back (at least partially, my teachers have now upgraded to projects and term papers, but it will all be over soon). Anyway, I think a little time adds to the suspense, and we do have all summer. Well, let me know how you're enjoying it so far; thanks for reading!


	17. Painful Secrets

The Dream

Chapter 17: Painful Secrets

A/N: This starts out a little slow, but there's some action at the end. Hopefully this chapter's not as crappy as the last few have been. Please review and let me know if I can do anything to make this better.

Cairo

Sydney and Dixon walked slowly up to the tall iron gate. Everything was still. The dust hung thickly, menacingly in the air.

A tall figure approached from the other side of the gate. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder and a faded scar on his forehead. Sydney quickly recognized him as the man she had thought was Vaughn last time she had been in Cairo.

"Are you here for the conference?" he asked in halting, accented English.

"Only if they will be serving refreshments," Sydney answered, reciting the coded response.

Satisfied with her answer, the man nodded and moved to open the gate. "You," he said, pointing a dirty finger at Sydney, "may come in. But he cannot."

"Those were not the terms agreed upon," Dixon stated angrily.

The man gave Dixon an icy stare and stood firmly in the doorway. He then turned his gaze to Sydney. "You come in alone, or no one comes in at all."

 "We understand," Sydney replied, looking Dixon straight in the eye. He gave her a small nod and put his hand up to his ear, signaling her to turn on her com. She nodded in reply, and as Dixon walked away, she followed the guard to the house.

The guard opened the door and led her into a hall lavishly decorated with elegant statues and vases that were far different from any she would have expected Fahim to have. As she was taking in the beauty of the front hall, the guard stopped abruptly, and she almost plowed into his back.

He gave her an evil stare and held out his hand to her. "Give me your communications device."

Sydney looked at him questioningly and his eyes narrowed until they were nothing more than slits. "If you wish to go any further, give me your SD-6 communications device."

She silently complied and handed him the device. He placed it, almost delicately, on the floor, and then stomped on it with such anger and force that Sydney jumped. Without any further conversation, he led her to a door at the far end of the hall, opened it, and motioned for her to go inside. She obeyed and walked in. The guard remained outside and slammed the door behind her.

"Ah, Sydney Bristow."

Sydney raised her eyebrows slightly. She hadn't thought that he would know her name, but she didn't let that faze her, at least not outwardly.

"Fahim," she responded coolly, turning toward the cold, familiar voice.

Fahim made his way toward her, and she took those few seconds to quickly scan the room. It was an office of some kind, decorated just as richly and with the same taste as the hall.

When Fahim was almost next to her, he extended his hand. Remembering the last time his hand had touched her, Sydney shuddered inwardly as she reluctantly offered him her hand in return. He took it and brought it up to his mouth, letting his slimy lips slither over her soft skin and leaving them there for a few moments longer than she thought necessary.

He finally released her hand, letting his fingers linger for a moment on hers. She fought the impulse to wipe the back of her hand on her pants, her shirt, the floor, anything that would erase the feel of his greasy fingers, his filthy lips.

"Please, do sit down," he offered, gesturing toward a chair across from the desk. She acquiesced, and he sat in the chair behind the desk, moving a vase to one side so he could see her clearly. 

His speech, his manner, the room, all clashed with his outward appearance. He was dressed in a pair of dirty pants and a stained white T-shirt. The dust from the streets clung to his boots, and even his face and hair. Outside in the markets of Cairo, he would look just like anyone else, but in here, he was different. The speech of his guard had been slow and with a heavy Arabic accent, but Fahim's English flowed smoothly, naturally, with a hint of a British accent, if any accent at all.

He looked dirty, tired, stupid, but she knew it was only an act. And that's bothered her, kept her on alert. That's what scared her.

"I have heard quite a bit about you," Fahim continued. "And I must say, I am impressed."

"Really?" Sydney asked, not sure where this conversation was going. Couldn't he just give her the information she came for and be done with it?

"You have many special talents, my dear. A quick thinker, a skilled fighter," he paused and then continued in Arabic, "And a master of many tongues."

"As, I'm sure, are you," Sydney answered him in French. Two could play at this game.

"Brava, Miss Bristow. Well done," Fahim said with a smile as he clapped his hands. He continued in English, "French is such a beautiful language, is it not? And your voice adds such music to it. Speak again, my sweet; I could listen all day to the sound of your voice."

Sydney stared at him coldly. What was up with this guy? "I believe you have some information that I might be interested in."

"Very well," Fahim said with a sigh, shifting in his seat to take something out of the desk. "Business first, pleasantries later."

He placed a rolled up paper on the desk and Sydney watched as he proceeded to unroll it. Whatever was on that paper could be her key to freedom, to life, to love. She tried to see what it was, but the antiques and knick-knacks on the desk were blocking her view. She waited patiently; not wanting to appear too interested in whatever it was Fahim had.

"Stand up, my dear. Get a closer look."

Sydney stood and walked over to the desk. She gasped slightly as she recognized what Fahim had. Resting her hands on the desk, she leaned in for a closer look, ignoring the feel of Fahim's eyes following her every move and his hot breath on her skin.

It was a map. 

"I believe…"

A map of SD-6.

"…this is familiar to…"

With every space, every name filled in.

"…you. Perhaps your…"

It was a completed copy of the one that…

"…Agent Vaughn has shown you one similar to it?"

Sydney's eyes shot up. She didn't try to hide her surprise as she slowly backed away from the desk, bumping and then falling into the chair. She jumped up again, eyes wide, cheeks flushed.

"How do you know…" she began in a low voice.

"Sit down, my dear," Fahim interrupted her. "Make yourself comfortable."

Without really thinking, Sydney obeyed, sinking slowly into the chair, eyes still trained on Fahim.

"How do I know about him, you ask? How do you know about you?" he paused and smiled at her. "Do you remember our last meeting?"

Sydney nodded and Fahim continued.

"You visited my little pottery stand. My cover, as you know, for my weapons business. There are no secrets between us, as you will soon find out…"

No secrets? Sydney quickly glanced down at her watch. But did he know…

"Pay attention, my dear. I believe you will find this interesting…I found you quite…charming. I was disappointed that I did not have what you were looking for, so I sent one of my men after you to ask you what it was you really wanted. You were such a pretty little girl, and I wanted to please you. Imagine my amusement when my man returned battered and bloody. You were no ordinary little girl; you were strong, you were a fighter. I find that attractive in a woman." He paused and his lips curled upward in sly grin.

"That is when I knew I wanted you; you were just what I was looking for. So I did some research, my dear, to find something you wanted. I tracked you. I found a source that kept me updated on your activities, until about a week ago, when an unfortunate accident led to his demise. Automobiles can be such tricky things, can they not?"

Sydney let out a small sigh. A week ago. Thank God; he didn't know.

"Well, I found out all about you and the twisted horror you call life. Some girls would want diamonds or jewels, but not you. You want a little something called SD-6 destroyed. And I," he said, putting a finger on the map, "have just the thing to help you."

The room was silent for a moment. Everything had a price. Sydney was waiting for Fahim to name his.

"I've heard of your work; seen the little shows you've put on," Fahim finally continued. "And I must say, I was quite impressed." He stood up and walked around the desk, standing directly in front of her. "It would please me to no extent if you would put on a little show for me…With more action and less clothing of course."

He reached down and ran a greasy hand slowly up Sydney's arm. She felt her skin crawl and a chill run down her spine.

Dammit.

It had taken a few minutes, but Vaughn had finally recovered from trying to breathe in his coffee. He had sent a spray of the dark liquid flying across the room when Fahim had mentioned his name, soaking his shirt and a good part of the pink hotel carpet.

Now, he was listening intently to every word that Fahim was saying, absorbing the information like a sponge. He had breathed a sigh of relief along with Sydney when he had discovered that Fahim did not know that he was listening to their conversation.

Vaughn turned up the volume and Fahim's voice filled the room.

"…if you would put on a little show like that for me. With more action and less clothing of course."

That bastard!

Sydney flung Fahim's arm away from her and jumped up from the chair. "Don't you…"

"Come now, Sydney," Fahim interrupted, taking a step closer to her. "You have nothing to lose, unless of course, you're a virgin. But I believe Agent Vaughn at least would have taken care of that."

Sydney's eyes glowed with anger and she felt her ears burning. It embarrassed her that Vaughn was listening to this.

She crossed her arms and took another step back. "You're not getting anything from me."

"Maybe you haven't had enough of these little games, hmmm? There is no point in resisting, my dear, because I always get what I want."

"Screw you," Sydney spat at him, the anger boiling within her.

"In good time, my sweet. In good time."

Vaughn's fists were clenched, his lips pressed into a thin line. He was ready to crush the speakers, to rid the room of that bastard's voice, but he knew that wouldn't help.

Fahim's voice projected from the speakers again, as Vaughn sat listening, helpless.

"Let's see, my sweet. What game should we play? Something that will get the blood pumping…Ah, I have it. You are an accomplished fighter. I believe I would find a little scuffle enjoyable. We could consider this a foreplay of sorts…"

Foreplay? What the hell!

"…No, no, my dear," Fahim laughed. "Not yet. I am not quite ready. You see, you are more skilled than I, and I believe that it is only fair that we are evenly matched in this, don't you?"

Vaughn heard a drawer opening and shutting, and then the distinct clink of metal.

"You prefer sword fighting?" Sydney asked coolly.

How she could keep calm throughout this, Vaughn would never know.

"Yes, I do. I was quite good at it in my college days…No, no, my sweet. That's not for you. Kick-boxing is your specialty. I have heard how you excel at it, and would like to see you do it in person. Now, are you ready?"

Vaughn didn't hear Sydney answer. He wished he had a visual of what was happening. Drops of perspiration began to form on his forehead and he hastily wiped them away with the back of his hand.

They had come so far and were so close to being together. He couldn't lose her now.

Sydney stood with her hands ready as Fahim slowly approached with his sword.

"Be forewarned, my dear. I will not go easy on you. I will not kill you, to be sure, but screaming, as you Americans say, turns me on, and if pain is the only way for you to give in to me, so be it."

He advanced menacingly and swung his sword at her. She dodged the blow and delivered a swift kick to his waist.

Her foot connected firmly with his stomach, but he barely flinched. "Watch your aim, my dear. You would not want to spoil the fun for later."

Sydney launched herself at him with all the strength and force that her hatred and anger lent her.

Vaughn sat perfectly still on the edge of the bed, not breathing or even blinking. He cringed as he heard her heavy breathing, the sickening smack of skin against skin, and the swooshing of the sword flying through the air.

Sydney was a skilled fighter; he'd seen her in action. Should he try to save her or could she take care of herself?

If he went to her and she didn't need him, he would be jeopardizing everything she had worked so hard for. Dixon and SD-6 were still outside Fahim's compound, patrolling the area.

But if she needed him, and he didn't go…He didn't want to think of what would happen.

Sydney delivered another swift kick to Fahim's head. But he was ready for her. He grabbed her foot and pulled it, sending Sydney flying to the floor with a sickening thud.

Fahim slashed at her with his sword, cutting a deep gash in her right arm. He smiled as he watched the blood gush out of the wound, forming a puddle on the floor.

He brought the tip of the sword in contact with her nose; laughing as her eyes widened and she shook in terror. Then, he brought the sword down and ran it gently across her cheek.

Sydney watched its tip out of the corner of her eye. He ran it across her cheek again, harder this time, drawing blood.

She wasn't putting up with anymore of this. She quickly slid to the side and jumped up, inadvertently giving Fahim time to strike her in the side. She gasped, but would not scream. That was what he wanted.

Her shirt was ripped where the sword had struck her, and sticky with blood. The pain seared through her body, but she ignored it.

With a well-placed kick to the hand, the sword went flying across the room.

"Very good, my dear. Very good," Fahim laughed. "Have you had enough yet?"

Sydney answered him by kicking him swiftly, once in the stomach and then in the head. He reeled backwards, but caught his balance and swung his fist at her.

She tried to move out of the way, but the pain made it difficult and his fist connected squarely with her eye.

Vaughn had jumped up from the bed and was anxiously pacing the room. He heard the smack of Sydney's body hitting the ground.

How long do you listen?

Fahim was laughing. Sydney gasped and softly whimpered.

How do you decide?

Vaughn's ears pricked up at the sound of metal clanging. Thank God.

Then that son of a bitch Fahim was talking and laughing again. "Very good, my dear. Very good. Have you had enough yet?"

Vaughn heard two smacks and Fahim grunt. He held his breath.

Could she handle this by herself? How would he know if she needed him? Should he go to her before she starts screaming, or wait for the screams to start?

Then he heard another sound, another smack, and a small scream.

Too late. They already did.

 Sydney let out a small scream, and quickly put a hand over her mouth.

"We've been at this for quite awhile?" Fahim smirked. "Do you need a rest?"

Sparks and colors seemed to fly across the room. Blood was running down her arm, her leg, dripping down her face. Sydney swayed slightly and held out a hand to steady herself. She blinked and shook her head in an effort to clear her vision.

"You look tired, my sweet. I'll help you get to sleep."

With that, Fahim picked up a vase from his desk and walked slowly over to her. He raised it over his head.

Sydney's eyes widened. She tried to move, but her feet were planted firmly to the ground. She weakly raised her hands to try to shield herself.

With a swift crack, Fahim slammed the vase over her head.

It shattered and glass rained down on the floor.

Dazed, Sydney brought a hand up to her head and then held it in front of her face. It was dark and sticky with blood.

She brought her hand down and turned her stunned gaze to Fahim.

Slowly, he went out of focus.

Slowly, everything turned black.

Sydney fell to the floor. Fahim bent over her, running a hand across her cheek.

"Now, my dear, you're mine."


	18. Drops of Blood

The Dream

Chapter 18: Drops of Blood

Vaughn stood frozen to the ground, listening. He heard it all. 

"You look tired, my sweet. I'll help you get to sleep."

That bastard. His footsteps echoed across the room. Sydney didn't say a word. She didn't scream; she had given up fighting. Vaughn waited for something to happen, anything.

Then he heard it. The smallest of sounds, but he knew that it came from Sydney. A whimper. Her small cry for help. Dammit! Why couldn't he be there for her?

Vaughn started to relax. Maybe Fahim had given up as well. Maybe he had had enough of this fight and was going to let Sydney go. Maybe he wasn't such a bastard. Maybe the earth was flat and pigs really could fly.

Just as Vaughn started to breathe again, just as he started to let his optimistic fantasies start to calm him down, he heard the noise that shattered his eardrums and split his heart into a million tiny pieces.

Something, something glass broke with a sickening crash. There was a small cry, Sydney's small cry, and then the thud something, a body, falling to the floor.

He didn't waste another second. Without any further thoughts, Vaughn grabbed the communications device and ran across the room. It took him a few seconds to realize that he didn't hear anymore sounds coming from the speakers. There was none of that bastard's repulsive laughter, none of Sydney's tears or even her breathing, nothing, nothing at all…

That could mean so many things. It could mean that Fahim had left her alone…It could mean that Fahim had left her to die…It could mean that Fahim had…Shit. It could also mean that he had yanked out the cord when he had pulled the speakers across the room. God dammit!

Frustrated, on the verge of tears, Vaughn angrily threw the speakers down and stormed out of the hotel room, ignoring the strange looks of passersby.

He ran, faster than he had ever run before, and didn't slow down until he had almost reached Fahim's gate. Then the questions poured into his mind like water flooding the storm drains after a heavy rain. Was Sydney all right? How would he find her? How would he get past SD-6? How would he get past Fahim?

But he didn't want to have to admit to himself that he didn't have the answers to most of those questions, so he continued walking slowly to the gate. Sydney had told him once that she worked better under pressure, maybe he would too.

Vaughn raised his fist and banged on the black twisted metal. He turned to his left and saw the SD-6 van waiting a few yards away. It was getting dark; they wouldn't be able to see him very well, and even if they did, they shouldn't know who he was.

A shadowy figure approached the gate and stood menacingly on the other side. Vaughn couldn't really see the man's face, but he could clearly make out the silhouette of the large rifle that he had slung over his shoulder.

The guard waited for a moment and when Vaughn didn't say anything, he demanded impatiently, "What do you want?"

Vaughn stood up as straight and tall as he could. He was about this man's size. If this guard didn't have that huge rifle, if SD-6 was not a few footsteps away, if this man didn't have an entire legion of guards at his beck and call, then they would probably be pretty evenly matched.

The guard spat at Vaughn's feet and Vaughn gave him an evil stare. One that he probably couldn't see in the near dark.

"I need to speak to your boss." he finally responded.

"Are you here for the conference?" the man asked.

Vaughn thought for a moment. He knew the coded response; he could say it… "No, but this is an important matter that I believe your boss would be very interested in discussing with me."  
  


"Really?" There was that smirk again. Vaughn was really beginning to hate this guy.

He was almost shaking with impatience and anger, but managed to nod somewhat civilly. "And I don't think it would be good for you or your boss' business if you turned me away." He nodded toward the SD-6 van and leaned closer to the guard, whispering, "I could always take my business elsewhere."

He saw the guard's eyes widen almost imperceptibly as he reached out and opened the gate.

"Follow me."

Vaughn waited, almost patiently, until the guard had led him across the front lawn, up the stairs, and into the hall before making his move. The guard had carelessly left his rifle hanging at his shoulder, so that when Vaughn kicked him in the head, the gun left his grip.

Vaughn grabbed it, held the end of the rifle at he guard's chest and pulled the trigger. The shot echoed across the room, and the guard's lifeless body fell before him. There was silence; and only then did Vaughn think that shooting the guard might not have been a good idea.

But what was done was done. Vaughn stood still for a moment, listening for any sounds, but hearing none. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and tiptoed carefully down the hall.

He tried to remember how many steps Sydney had taken down that very same hall, how long it had taken her to get to Fahim's door, so that he would know which room to go into. But he couldn't remember. He couldn't think about Sydney without hearing her whimper and cry out in pain. He needed to stay focused.

Vaughn opened a door and peered inside. No one was in the room. Nothing was out of place. He softly shut the door and moved on to the next and the next, continuing slowly and quietly down the hallway, praying that no one would see or hear him.

A window at the far end of the hall threw a little light across the floor. He had almost finished going through all the rooms, when something in front of one of the doors caught his eye. The last rays of sunlight were sparkling in a small puddle on the floor.

He slowly approached the door, wanting but not wanting to know what the liquid was.

Water; please let it be water.

But it wasn't water. Water wasn't dark. Water wasn't red.

He opened the door to the room and was blinded by the light that reflected back at him from the thousands of tiny shards of glass and the pools of blood that littered the floor.

Vaughn's mind reeled back to the sounds he had heard over the speakers. The scenes played out in his mind. There was the chair she had sat in; there, lying across the room, was the sword. He sank down, squatting on his heels, his head in his hands. There was where that monster had struck her and smacked her, and there, there was where she had fallen.

He closed his eyes and could see Sydney lying on the ground, helpless. The blood trickled down her face, her arms, her legs, washing over her entire body, marring her beautiful, perfect skin. 

He wanted to scream; he wanted to cry. He wanted to throw himself on the ground and kick and yell like he had when he was three years old. He wanted to be able to swoop down and scoop Sydney up, to help her, to save her, to love her.

She had been here. The pictures of what must have happened played over and over in his head like a nightmarish horror film.

If he had gone to her when he had first heard that she was in trouble, could he have saved her from this? Could he have prevented this misery, this harm? He had been listening. He had been the only one that knew what was happening, that could have helped her. But he hadn't. He had waited; he had thought that she could have taken care of herself. He had thought that she could handle it.

He was her handler; he was supposed to help her handle things. He was supposed to protect her. More than that, though, he was madly in love with her and would have moved mountains to keep her from harm. But he hadn't. He had waited.

The blood. The misery. The pain. He could have prevented it, all of it, but he hadn't. It was his fault.

He glanced around the room again. Dammit. All the blood; smearing the carpet, streaking the walls. She had been here, but she wasn't here anymore. And now he had to find her. Find her before…before…

He quickly got up and ran out the door, leaving the glass and the blood and the sickening pictures behind him. He panicked when he started walking further down the hall and suddenly realized that he had no idea where he could find her.

That was when he saw more drops of blood further down the hall, leading to the stairs; and the small red stains that marred the soft carpet on the way up.

He almost rejoiced that he would now be able to find her. But then he realized that he was following a trail of her blood, like a sick and twisted version of Hansel and Gretel. His eyes glowed with a mixture of fury and sorrow.

He ran the back of his hand quickly and angrily over his eyes, brushing away the hot tears that clouded his vision. She could still be okay. He had to find her. He had to stay strong.

He followed the drops of blood up the stairs and down another hall. Not a soul was in sight. The trail of blood stopped outside a door at the end of the hallway.

Vaughn stood, staring at those few drops of blood. Opening that door could be a huge relief or the biggest disappointment he had ever had to face. He knew that behind that door he would find the woman he loved, but whether she would still be in one piece, whether she would still be alive…

He took a slow deep breath and reached out to open the door, when suddenly, the handle turned, and the door opened.

Vaughn took a step back and looked away, not ready to face what he would find inside.

A/N: Sorry, I know that not much happened, but I needed to stop there otherwise this chapter would be way too long (and I don't really know what's going to happen next). Graduation's soon, so hopefully chapters will come quicker. The story's getting closer to the end, but I'm still open to any suggestions on how to make it better. Thanks to all those who have read and reviewed; I hope you're still enjoying this. Please, everybody, review. It helps me write when I know that people are actually reading. It only takes a few seconds and can really put a smile on somebody's face. ;-) Thanks.


	19. Payback

The Dream

Chapter 19: Payback

"Mr. Vaughn, what a pleasant surprise. I was not expecting you so soon."

Fahim. The smooth sound of his voice was harsher on Vaughn's ears than fingernails on a chalkboard. Vaughn's grip on the rifle tightened as he finally lifted his eyes.

Fahim was freshly dressed, his hair wet, his body smelling faintly of soap. Apart from a small bruise on his head, he showed no other visible signs of his fight with Sydney.

"Where is she?" Vaughn demanded.

"Who?" Fahim asked, cocking his head and smiling

"Cut the shit, Fahim. I'm not playing your games." Vaughn tried to see around him, to see if Sydney was in the room, but he was blocking the door.

"That's too bad, Mr. Vaughn. I'm sure you'd enjoy them."

Vaughn raised the rifle, pointing it at that monster's ugly head, but Fahim put out a hand to stop him.

"I could kill you right now." Vaughn stated simply. He was smoldering with anger, and using all his self-control not to act on his words.

"You could." Fahim said with a shrug. "But then I can guarantee that neither you or Miss Bristow would leave my compound alive."

Fahim's words were meant to be threatening and cruel, but Vaughn's heart leapt with joy. Alive. Sydney was still alive.

"Don't do something you'll later regret, Mr. Vaughn," Fahim continued with a laugh. "I believe I have something that belongs to you in here. You may come in, but only if you leave your weapon at the door."

Vaughn frowned and narrowed his eyes. Fahim laughed and held up his hands in a gesture of mock surrender.

"I am unarmed, after all. We must play fair."

"Fair! Who the hell are you to talk about playing fair?" He was shouting now, and he didn't care who heard him. "Using a sword against someone who's unarmed, a woman…"  
  


"Ah, but Miss Bristow is no ordinary woman," Fahim interrupted him, his eyes twinkling. "But I'm sure you know that, don't you?"

Vaughn was shaking with rage. He ripped the rifle from his shoulder and flung it. It clattered down the hall before skidding to a stop at the top of the stairs.  
  


Fahim watched, amused. "I think you could benefit from some anger management courses, Mr. Vaughn. I could give you some numbers if you like."

He had been patient, but now his patience was wearing dangerously thin. "Let me in."

"Of course." Fahim moved aside and gestured for Vaughn to enter. "Come right this way."

Vaughn stepped inside. He found a couch, some chairs, and a bookcase, but no Sydney. The room was immaculate, except for one smear of blood that marred the carpet. She was somewhere nearby. He could feel it.

Fahim followed Vaughn's gaze. "You'll have to pardon the mess. The help should be arriving within the hour to clean up…Would you care to sit down?"

Fahim sat on the couch, but Vaughn remained standing. "Where's Sydney?"

"Not to worry. She's resting. I would say she's resting comfortably, but I believe that would be stretching the facts a little too far."

He laughed again. A sound that Vaughn loathed. It was taking almost all of his effort not to put his hands around Fahim's neck and listen gleefully as his cruel laughter slowly choked away.

"Now, tell me, Mr. Vaughn," Fahim continued. "You have arrived much quicker than I had anticipated. I would love to hear you explain this, if you don't mind. I'm in the mood for a good story."

Vaughn couldn't stand much more of this. He had to get to Sydney, to rescue her, to take her away. Fahim had implied that she was still alive, but she was hurt. She might not have much time.

He took a step closer to Fahim and said in a slow, low voice, "Take me to Sydney. Now."

"If you insist," Fahim said as he stood up. "But you'll explain later, perhaps?"

Vaughn glared at him.

"No? Very well."

He led Vaughn to one of the doors at the side of the room.

"You're here to whisk her away from me, I assume." Fahim said with a sigh. "What a pity, we were having such fun."

Before Vaughn could respond or get a chance to jump at his throat, Fahim turned and opened the door. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark, but as the door opened, light fell across a bed.

Without waiting for Fahim to invite him in, Vaughn ran across the room and to the bed. Sydney was lying there. He could just make out her outline in the dark. A roll of paper lay at her side. The map. So the mission had been a success, but at what price?

"Sydney?" Vaughn whispered. She didn't flinch, didn't move. Her chest rose and fell slowly, barely moving with her shallow breaths.

He bent down and kissed her gently. Her lips were wet and sticky, and afterwards, when he ran the back of his hand across his own lips, he found it smeared with blood.

Suddenly his eyes adjusted to the darkness and what he saw filled him sadness and made him crazy with anger.

Sydney's hair was red. As red as it had been the first time he had laid eyes on her, but this time it wasn't hair dye; it was blood. The blood oozed out of an ugly bruised bulge on the top of her head, like lava flowing slowly from a volcano. It ran across her face, over her bruised eye, mingling with the blood from a wound on her cheek, and flowed down to the bed, staining the sheets.

The bedclothes had once been white, but they were no longer. They were smeared and spotted further down, proving that the blood was also coming from somewhere other than her face. The once pure white sheets were now stained an ugly crimson.

Damn the sheets. They, along with every other item in this house, every other thing that that man has ever touched, deserved to burn in hell.

He threw the sheets down to Sydney's waist. Blood was still slowly flowing from the gash on her arm and the wound in her side. So much blood. Dripped on the floor, staining the sheets, soaking her clothes.

How long had it taken him to get to her? Twenty minutes? Twenty-five? He needed to get her to the hospital. She wouldn't last much longer.

Holding back tears, Vaughn reached down to take her in his arms. But suddenly he stopped. Something had caught his eyes, something that infuriated him more than what he had already seen.

Sydney's shirt was opened slightly; the buttons were ripped off, nowhere to be found. Vaughn tore the sheets off the bed to inspect the rest of her clothing. But her shoes, her socks, her pants, all were gone.

"Merde," Vaughn whispered, as hot, angry tears scalded his eyes. Then he saw the bruises. The bruises that weren't from the fight. The bruises that were on her neck, her breasts, and the inside of her thighs.

"You son of a bitch!" Vaughn shouted, turning around.

Fahim had been standing in the doorway watching Vaughn's every move. His face twisted into an evil grin.

"How could you?" Vaughn demanded, his voice low, threatening.

"Didn't your mother ever sit down and talk to you, Mr. Vaughn," Fahim said with a laugh. "When a man loves a woman…"

He didn't get a chance to finish. Vaughn launched at him, his fist connecting with the other man's head. Fahim swung back, but missed. Vaughn lunged at him, throwing him to the ground, his fingers encircling Fahim's throat.

"Can't…we be civil…about this?" Fahim choked out, trying to pry at Vaughn's fingers.

Civil. That bastard. Vaughn tightened his grip. Fahim struggled, as his face became increasingly darker shades of red.

This was taking too long. It wasn't giving Vaughn the satisfaction he needed. It wasn't making up for the pain and humiliation that Sydney had suffered. It wasn't making up for the blood she had lost. It was too good of a way for that bastard to die.

Vaughn loosened his grip.

"Thank you…thank you…" Fahim whispered in between gasps. But Vaughn ignored him. He began beating Fahim in the face, pummeling him like a madman.

Fahim was shrieking, bringing his hands to his face in an effort to protect himself. But it was useless. Vaughn continued to hammer him without mercy, even after Fahim had dropped his hands and the shrieking had decreased to a whimper.

He poured out his fury every time he connected his fist with Fahim's face, but instead of satisfying him, his anger only increased. His punches became more violent, blood began to fly through the air.

Suddenly, a shot rang out. Only then did Vaughn stop his relentless beating, immediately turning his eyes to where Sydney lay.

A/N: Well, what do you think? I was going to keep going, but that seemed like as good a place as any to stop this chapter. I was very gung-ho this weekend. Not only was this chapter posted only a few days after the one before, but I also have most of the next chapter written as well. Let me know if you want me to post it. ;^)


	20. Sway

The Dream

Chapter 20: Sway

~~~

My heart, your hands, gentle my friend

Break me neatly, numb me sweetly

~

Say you would, say you could

Say you'd come and stop the rain

Say you'd try and hold me tight

And you just give me away

Make me high on lullabies

A melody for me to sway

Say you would, say you could

And you don't do anything

~~~

A burly man was standing menacingly in the doorway holding a rifle. 

"Don't move," he commanded, pointing the gun at Vaughn. Vaughn craned his neck, trying to see if Sydney was all right, if she had been shot, if she was still breathing…But he couldn't see. He was too far away.

Vaughn glanced around. Fahim was still lying beneath him, not moving, but still breathing. Dammit. Why were the bad ones so hard to kill?

Then he noticed a bullet hole in the wall, just over his own head. Thank God.

At least he knew that Sydney hadn't been shot. Whether she was still alive was another matter. She had lost so much blood…He had to get her out of there.

Vaughn casually felt around in his pockets. He wasn't wearing his holster; he didn't have a knife; he didn't even have a damn paperclip for God's sake. The guard was eyeing him suspiciously, watching his every move.

He cautiously shifted positions and as he did, he noticed that Fahim was wearing something around his waist. He nonchalantly brought his hand down to examine it, all the while keeping an eye on the guard.

It was a knife. There really was a God.

Vaughn closed his fist around the handle. In one swift motion, he whipped the knife out of its holder and brought the blade to Fahim's neck.

The guard's eyes widened and he looked confused for a moment. Then he moved the gun so he had better aim at Vaughn's head.

Vaughn pushed the blade harder against Fahim's skin, locking eyes with the guard. "Go ahead and pull the trigger. It'll give me just enough time to slit his throat."

The guard shifted uncomfortably, but didn't bring the gun down.

"Do you want him to die?" Vaughn asked, scratching Fahim with the knife so that a thin line of blood appeared at his throat.

The guard moved his gaze from Vaughn, to the knife, to Fahim, and then back to Vaughn again. He brought the gun down slowly, but after a moment's thought, quickly moved it back up.

Vaughn glanced at Sydney. She still hadn't moved and he was too far away to see if she was still breathing. He didn't have time for this. 

"You let me take her safely out of here, and your boss will live."

The man didn't move. He was thinking so hard that Vaughn could practically hear the gears turning.

"God dammit!" Vaughn shouted impatiently. "Make up your mind! Do you want your boss to live or die?!"

The guard thought for a minute. A minute that seemed to stretch for all eternity.

"Live," he finally stated simply, lowering the gun.

Vaughn reluctantly brought the knife away from Fahim's throat. Part of him had hoped that the guard would have said, "Die," and pulled the trigger. He would have gladly paid for taking Fahim's life with his own, but that meant Sydney would have to die too. Vaughn wouldn't, couldn't be responsible for her death. He would do anything to keep her alive, even if it meant that that bastard had to live too.

Vaughn stood up. "Take him out of my sight," he said, glancing at Fahim and kicking him towards the door.

The guard complied, easily throwing Fahim over his shoulder and carrying him from the room.

As soon as they were gone, Vaughn ran to Sydney. He kissed her lightly again, not caring about the blood that smeared his lips; and quickly disentangled the top sheet from the rest of the blankets.

He placed the sheet over her, covering her bare legs, and was about to scoop her up, when he felt her move slightly, a move that was more a twitch than any sort of voluntary motion.

"Syd?" he whispered, immediately moving to the head of the bed. He knelt next to her, running his fingers delicately across her cheek.

She flinched at the slight pressure, but whether it was from pain or fear, he couldn't tell.

"It's okay Syd," he murmured. "I'm here now."

 Her eyes fluttered open. "Vaughn," she whispered weakly. Her voice was low and hoarse, but it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

"Oh, Sydney…" his voice broke, and the tears started to stream down his face. He wanted to throw his arms around her, bury his face in her shoulder and cry. He wanted to caress her, embrace her, kiss her; but he couldn't. He didn't want to frighten her, he didn't want to hurt her.

"Vaughn…what…what happened?…Where am I?"

She had known his name. She had remembered that much. Please let her remember the rest. He was praying that she didn't have a concussion, that she didn't have amnesia, that she wasn't really hurt as badly as she looked.

"You…you had some trouble on a mission," he answered, choosing his words carefully. "You're in Egypt, remember?"

"Fahim," she whispered, closing her eyes. He saw her cringe, and this time he knew that it was from the memories and not the physical pain.

"Shh, he won't hurt you anymore." He took a clean corner of the sheet and gently tried to wipe the blood from her face. He succeeded in getting most of it off, but as soon as he finished, he saw a crimson trail slowly start to make its way down her face again. 

He sighed, and quickly wiped the tears from his eyes. "I'm here now, and I'm never going to leave you again."

She slowly, painfully, lifted her hand to take his. Her grip was weak, barely there at all. An hour ago she had been fighting fiercely for her life; now she could hardly take his hand.

"Pr…promise me," she murmured.

"I promise." He kissed her hand and then laid it gently at her side. "We have to go now. I'm going to carry you, okay?"

She tried to nod her head, but winced from the pain. He carefully put his arms under her and lifted her up, wrapping her in the sheet. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears mixing with the blood that had found its way back into her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he quickly grabbed the map and carried her out of the room, the sudden bright light almost blinding him.

He waited for her to respond, but she didn't answer; she didn't make a sound.

"Syd?…Sydney, baby, keep your eyes open."

"It…it hurts." Her voice faltered. She was trying not to cry.

"I know it does. Just keep your eyes open for me, okay?"

"It makes…it makes me dizzy to… to keep my eyes…"

Vaughn stopped walking and looked down at her. The light in the hallway made her wounds look even more ghastly, and he swore that the bump on her head had grown larger than it had been when he had first seen it.

"I'm sorry, Sydney. I know it makes you dizzy, but can you open your eyes for me, just for a minute? Look up at me; open them as wide as you can."

Her eyes fluttered open, but she quickly shut them again.

"I know it's bright, baby. I know it hurts. But just for a minute and then you can close them, I promise. I want to see your beautiful eyes…Please?"

She opened them slowly, about halfway. 

"Great, Syd, that's perfect. Just keep them open for a few more seconds. Let me look at them…"

He glanced from one eye to the other. Her left pupil reacted normally, instantly becoming much smaller when the light hit it, but her right pupil hardly changed at all.

"I can't…see you…You're…spinning around…so fast…" 

Shit. A concussion. He had to get her to the hospital, now. 

"Okay, sweetie, you can close your eyes now. They're beautiful, you're going to be all right." 

Her long lashes fell gently down as the lids hid her soft brown eyes from his view. He continued walking and started down the stairs as quickly as he could without jostling her too much.

"I'm…so…tired."

He could barely hear her whisper. Her voice was becoming softer and weaker, the spaces between her words increasing.

"Don't fall asleep, Sydney. You need to stay awake…"

"Vaughn?"

"That's right, Syd. Just keep talking."

She brought her arm up and softly touched his cheek, then ran her fingers across his lips.

"Remember…that…I…always…love…you."

"I love you too, with all my heart. I couldn't live without you..."

"Re…remember…please…"

"I will Syd." Her fingers were still on his lips, and he kissed them. "You'll be here to remind me of that tomorrow and the next day, forever and always. I promise I'll…" He stopped talking as her fingers dropped suddenly from his lips.

"Don't fall asleep…please" He was pleading, not with her but with God and whoever else would listen. If she fell asleep she might never wake up…

He felt her head sink to her chest and sway slightly with every step he took

"Syd?…Sydney?…"

But she didn't answer. She couldn't hear him. He lowered his head to hers, sighing with relief when he felt her breath against his ear.

Vaughn awkwardly pulled the door open and stepped out onto the porch. When the door shut behind him, he was swallowed by the inky blackness of the night. The ominous darkness startled him, taunting him, mocking him.  He sighed and started down the path to the gate.

Sydney needed medical attention as soon as possible. He hadn't lost her. Yet. But he still could if she didn't get the help she needed. How long had it been since she had been wounded? Half an hour at least. A person could lose a lot of blood in half an hour.

Vaughn didn't even know where in Cairo he was; not that it would have helped him. He didn't know where any hospitals were anyway.

He opened the gate and stood outside the fence. Now what was he going to do? In his rush to find Sydney, he hadn't even grabbed his cell phone. He was stuck in the middle of nowhere holding a battered and badly bleeding Sydney in his arms, and no way to help her.

He lowered his head to hers again. She was still breathing, but how much longer would that last? Vaughn didn't want to think about that.

He had found her. He had rescued her from Fahim, but not before the damage had been done. He wished it hadn't had to be like that. For just once, he wished that he could save her from the discomfort, the agony.

But, somehow he was never able to. Something always happened. She always got screwed.

Now all that was going to change. They had the map; they could take down SD-6. But whether they did or not, he was never going to let her out of his sight again. He would hold onto her forever, SD-6 and the CIA be damned.

He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, avoiding the cuts and bruises, but not the blood. The blood was inevitable. It was everywhere.

He had three choices.

One of them was as just good as doing nothing. Wandering around Cairo until he found someone to help him would do neither him nor Sydney any good. It was a waste of time.

The second was out as well. He sure as hell was not going back to Fahim's and asking to use the phone.

He had to act, and he had only one option left. He had often told Sydney that he would do anything for her, now he would put some action behind his words.

He would do something. Even if it meant putting his own life in danger, even if it meant destroying everything Sydney had worked so hard for. He would do something, anything, to keep her alive.

Vaughn took a deep breath and slowly trudged down the path and knocked on the side of the SD-6 van.

A/N: Well, we're almost there. For all of you wondering when the heck this story is ever going to end, don't worry. There should only be about two more chapters. Maybe three, but then that's it, and I'll have to think of something else to write. :( I already went a lot farther than I thought I would, and don't want to bore you by dragging this out too much. By the way, the song from the beginning was "Sway" by Vanessa Carlton. Thanks for reading and please review; writing's great, but it's the feedback that makes it worth it! Thanks again!


	21. Whispered Prayers

The Dream

Chapter 21: Whispered Prayers

A/N: Well, one more chapter, I think. We're almost done. Here's a warning for anyone who wants it: Beware of the Angst! :) And special thanks to Placebo, who read the first draft of this chapter even before I did. Without her, this chapter would probably not have been up for awhile. Thanks!

Vaughn waited. There wasn't a sound coming from the inside of the van. There was no rustling around, no coughing or sneezing, not even a hint of anyone breathing, nothing.

He raised his hand to knock again, but froze when he suddenly heard a familiar clicking sound and felt hard metal, cold against his neck. A strong hand gripped his shoulder and a low voice reached his ears.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Vaughn swallowed uneasily; he knew that voice. He had heard it every time the CIA was listening in on Sydney's missions. Usually, that voice was kind and reassuring, joking with Sydney and giving her directions. But now, it was cold and dangerous. It was Dixon; and he sounded completely pissed off.

Vaughn moved to turn around, but Dixon's grip on his shoulder tightened like a vice.

"Don't move," he hissed menacingly.

"I…I have Sydney," Vaughn finally responded, not knowing what else to say.

Dixon's hand relaxed for a moment, out of shock, but he quickly tightened his hold on Vaughn again.

"What the…" he began, dumbfounded. "How the hell do you know Sydney?"

"I can't explain that now. We don't have time. Syd's hurt and she needs to get to the hospital right away."

Dixon quickly spun Vaughn around so that he could see both Vaughn's face and Sydney in his arms. He kept one hand on Vaughn's shoulder, while the other pointed the gun ruthlessly at his head.

Dixon's eyes widened when he first saw Sydney, and then narrowed as he looked Vaughn in the eye. "You son of a bitch. What did you do to her?"

Vaughn slowly shook his head. "It wasn't me. I would never hurt her…It was Fahim."

Dixon finally removed his hand from Vaughn's shoulder and clenched his fist tightly. Even in the dark Vaughn could see the crazy look in his eyes and his thirst for revenge. Sydney was lucky to have a friend like this. Dixon was a good man, he had just happened to fall in with the wrong crowd.

"Listen Dixon…"Vaughn began, but he was interrupted.

"How the hell do you know my name?" Dixon asked threateningly, bringing the gun back up.

The barrel was inches from Vaughn's nose; one shot would blow his brains into a million pieces, and splatter them like some kind of freak piece of art all over the side of the van. He would drop Sydney, she would fall to the ground. She couldn't take anything else, those three feet to the ground would probably kill her.

One shot, barely any pressure on the trigger, half a second, that's all it would take to end his world, and hers, forever.

Vaughn eyed the gun uneasily, but then tore his gaze away from it. He didn't have time to give an explanation, and considered trying to convince Dixon that he had told him his name. But Dixon wouldn't fall for it. Pulling a stunt like that would definitely not gain Vaughn any points in the trust department, and he needed those points to prevent his brains from becoming a splatter painting and Sydney from becoming a memory.

"I know more than that," he finally replied. "I know that you work for SD-6, which you think is a covert branch of the CIA…"

"What do you mean, 'I think,'" Dixon asked, his eyes narrowing until they were nothing more than slits.

Vaughn paused before answering, turning his gaze down to Sydney and lowering his head to hers. She was still breathing. Thank you, God.

"We can't discuss that here," he responded, glancing quickly at the SD-6 van. "And we don't have time now. Sydney needs help."

Dixon nodded grimly as he lowered the gun and opened the door to the van. He held out his arms, trying to take Sydney.

Vaughn shook his head and backed away. "I'm not leaving her."

Dixon glanced at his watch and folded his arms. "You said you know her, and you know me. But I don't know how, or if you're telling the truth…"

Jesus. This was going to take forever. There wasn't time. They should be at the hospital already, they should have been there awhile ago.

"I work with her," Vaughn interrupted, almost shaking with impatience.

"Fine," Dixon answered, his eyes narrowing. He didn't believe him. "I work with her too. You can trust her with me."

"I know I can, but I'm not leaving her. I promised her…"

"Stop." Dixon spat out as he held up a hand. "You're giving all the right answers, but I have no way of knowing if you're being straight with me or if you've been trained by the enemy. Just leave Sydney with me and go."

Vaughn was quickly losing patience. His eyes were beginning to burn with anger. "I am staying with Sydney," he said slowly, in a low voice.

Dixon's eyes ran down Sydney's form, and Vaughn saw his hands twitch slightly, as if they were going to dart out and take something. Vaughn knew that Dixon would have grabbed her, taken her away from him and thrown her into the van, but he was afraid to touch her. He didn't want to hurt her.

Dixon crossed his arms and sighed impatiently. "You're making this take longer than it should. It doesn't appear as if she has much time…"

"You think I don't know that?!" Vaughn shouted back at him, his anger and impatience blending into a dangerous mixture, his fury finally released.

"Do you think I haven't calculated how long she's been bleeding, how long she was left to that bastard's twisted desires?!" The color was rising to his cheeks and his eyes were smoldering.

"I swear to you that I didn't do this to her, but do you think that I still don't believe that it's somehow my fault?! I love her!"

Dixon's eyes widened at this point, and Vaughn paused for a moment, not able to believe that he had actually said that out loud. When the initial shock wore off, Vaughn continued, his voice now low, but still angry.

"God damn it, I'm in love with her. And I'm not going to leave her. Not again."

Dixon waited for a minute, watching Vaughn, who was checking on Sydney again. Vaughn brought his gaze up to meet Dixon's.

Dixon nodded slowly; he could see it, the love, the truth. It was in the way Vaughn spoke about her, the way he held her, the way he watched her. Dixon moved aside and jerked his head toward the open van. "Get in."

"Wait," Vaughn said in a low voice, moving closer to Dixon. "Where's your driver? Where are the other agents?"

"They went to check out the perimeter when we lost audio contact with Sydney. They were trying to discover her location and set up audio and visual surveillance of the meeting. I'll come back for them later."

Vaughn nodded, and continued in a whisper. "Take us to the closest hospital, but not, under any conditions, one that is operated by SD-6. Do you understand?"

Dixon nodded. Even without knowing Vaughn's name, he had started to trust him. He knew that he cared for Sydney more than anything else, and in his book, that was enough. He could tell that there was something more here that needed to be explained, but he also knew that they couldn't talk about it now.

Without a word, he took the map from Vaughn, placing it quickly on the van floor, and then moved to help Vaughn climb into the van.

They brought her to the hospital. It was eight minutes away. The longest drive Vaughn had ever taken. He and Dixon didn't speak the entire way there.

They took her from him in the waiting room. A nurse stayed behind to ask for her name, and he used the name of a vase of flowers he noticed on the admit desk and borrowed his mother's maiden name. Then she asked who he was and what his relationship was to her. He said he was her fiancé, but she still wouldn't let him past the double doors.

The nurse left, and went to take care of Sydney. When she came back a few minutes later, she was suspicious of him, and said they needed to test him before they could let him see her. So, he let them perform their tests, take his blood, but they still wouldn't take him to her just yet. They said he needed to wait for the results.

Vaughn waited for over an hour. It was obvious that they were not going to let him see her any time soon. He finally went to the bathroom and washed the blood, Sydney's blood, from his hands and face. It stained the water a dark red, and he watched the color fade from crimson to pink as the water swirled down the drain.

Then Vaughn left the bathroom and made some phone calls. He told Weiss to inform Devlin that the mission had been a success; he had already contacted the CIA safe house in Cairo and was sending him the map.

"Why aren't you bringing it home yourself?" Weiss asked.

"Because I'm not leaving Sydney," Vaughn answered. He was tired of lying. He didn't know how Sydney had done it for so long.

Weiss laughed. "I knew you had a girlfriend. I was wondering when you were going to actually tell me."

So Weiss had known after all, or at least he had suspected. It should have amused him, but Vaughn didn't feel like laughing.

Then Weiss told him that with that map, they would be able to take down SD-6. They would start with the Los Angeles office. It would take two weeks at the most to assemble and prep the team and the operation, then the LA office would be destroyed. They would continue from there until the entirety of SD-6 was obliterated.

Two weeks ago…two hours ago even, this would have been cause for celebration. He and Sydney would finally be free. Soon, he would be able to take her into his arms in front of anyone …But now, what was the point of celebrating if Sydney wasn't there to share it with him, to share his life with him?

He quietly said goodbye, and called Jack.

At first Jack sounded concerned, and said that he would like to arrange a meeting with Vaughn. He wanted to discuss in person exactly what had happened, so he would know what to expect when he visited Sydney in the hospital.

Vaughn calmly explained to him that he wasn't in the States, and wouldn't be returning until Sydney could too. Jack became cold and businesslike. He coolly gave Vaughn a message to relay to Sydney, and told him to buy her a get-well card and sign his name. Then he mentioned something about danger and agent/handler protocol, but Vaughn didn't really listen to it.

Vaughn was about to hang up, but as an after thought, interrupted Jack and asked him to cover for Sydney and contact her friends. She wouldn't want them to worry. Jack agreed to, and without any further words, or even a hint of a goodbye, he hung up.

He would not be visiting Sydney in Cairo, not while Vaughn was there.

After his phone call with Jack, Vaughn slowly walked to the corner of the waiting room where Dixon was sitting, and quietly explained to him what SD-6 really was. He gave him details about Sydney's missions and counter missions, told him the truth about Danny, and what had happened at Badenweiler. He told him that what he had been doing had not been for the good of his country; he told him that he had been working for the enemy.

Dixon listened calmly to Vaughn's explanation, until the very end. That's when he broke down and started to cry, covering his face with one hand, the other resting on his knee.

Vaughn looked away. Watching other men cry was one of the saddest things to witness. He hated it. It was almost worse than seeing Sydney in pain. Almost. But not quite. Not by a long shot, he realized, now that he was actually thinking about it. Seeing Sydney so close to death was definitely worse than anything else.

Not knowing what else to do, he took Dixon's hand and squeezed it for a moment. Then he let go. Dixon apologized and told him that he would contact Sloane and cover for Sydney. He thanked Vaughn for informing him, for telling him the truth; and he left.

Just as Dixon was walking out the door, a nurse approached Vaughn. "You can see your fiancée now," she told him. "She's in the ICU." She handed Vaughn an envelope and led him down the sterile hospital hallways to Sydney's room.

He looked at the envelope as he walked down the hall; it contained his test results. They had believed that he was Sydney's fiancé, but only after they had determined that the semen they had gathered from Sydney during the rape exam did not belong to him. After they were sure that he wasn't the one who had hurt her. God damn it. He threw the envelope in a trashcan marked "Hazardous Materials" on the way to her room.

The intensive care unit turned out to be an entire hallway in which two or three patients shared one room. Vaughn was glad. He had thought that it would be one large, hallway-like room, with all of the gravely ill, brutally injured, and close-to-death patients in the hospital. He wouldn't have been able to deal with that, he could barely handle the situation as it was.

The nurse left him in front of room 47. Sydney's room. He waited until he saw her white-clad form turn the corner at the end of the hall before he opened the door.

The bed closest to the door had a white sheet pulled over the body, covering everything from head to foot. Nurses were bustling around the body, switching off machines, while a doctor stood nearby, writing something on a clipboard.

"What a shame; she was so sweet, so young," he heard someone whisper tearfully.

Vaughn stood rooted in the doorway, eyes frozen on the sheet-covered body.

"Call someone to take her down to the morgue," the doctor ordered without emotion.

Then someone noticed Vaughn standing in the doorway.

"Can I help you?" one of the nurses asked, wiping tears from her eyes.

Vaughn opened his mouth to speak, but no sounds came out. He cleared his throat and brought a hand to his forehead as if confused. "I…I'm Eric Donovan."

He knew it wasn't very original. Weiss was watching his dog while he was away, and for some reason, that had been the first thing he had thought of when they had asked him for his name earlier.

"And you're here to see your fiancée?" the nurse asked him quietly.

Dammit! Why the hell were there still tears in her eyes?

He nodded slowly.

She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm very sorry…"

Vaughn's heart stopped and he broke out in a cold sweat. He felt like singing loudly and covering his ears like children do when they don't like what is being said. He wanted to cry and scream. He wanted to run away. He didn't want to hear what she was going to say next, but she was continuing and he forced himself to listen.

"…We'll move that patient out of here as soon as possible. Then you can have some time alone with Lily." She dried her eyes and gave him a small smile.

Vaughn let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, and brought a hand to his forehead. Thank God.

He walked over to the other bed, the one that Sydney was laying in. The bright lights and white walls made her cuts and bruises even more obvious and appalling.

The blood was gone, held in by stitches and bandages. She was hooked up to four IVs, one for blood, one for saline, and two for antibiotics. Countless other machines measured her pulse and breathing, making sure she was still alive.

He leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. Then he took her hand and stood by her bed, listening to the steady beeping of the machines.

They came in and removed the body from the other bed. The nurse that had been crying brought him a chair and told him to sit down. He did, but he didn't let go of Sydney's hand.

The sun rose in the sky, and when the nurse returned, he asked her to close the shades; he preferred the sterile, artificial light of the hospital to the bright and cheerful sunlight.

He was tired, but there was more to it than that. The anger had finally left him, and the sadness wrenched at his heart, threatening to shatter it. But he couldn't even cry.

He was exhausted. He was emotionally drained. He was numb.

The doctor stepped into the room periodically. Sometimes, he talked to him, but Vaughn couldn't really pay attention to what was being said. The only thing he really heard the doctor tell him was that Sydney (or Lily rather, because that's what the doctor and all the nurses called her) wasn't out of the woods just yet, and the sooner she woke up, the better.

They brought him food, but he didn't eat it. Visiting hours were over, but they let him stay; he wouldn't move from Sydney's side, wouldn't let go of her hand.

They never brought in another patient to fill the other, now empty, bed. Vaughn was glad; he still couldn't look in that direction without remembering the terror he felt when he thought that Sydney lay there covered by the sheet. He liked the silence; he preferred that he and Sydney were left alone.

It was dark again when the nurse that had been crying returned, telling him she wouldn't let him stay if he didn't eat something. He wasn't hungry, and told her that he didn't have any money. Not a complete lie, because he only had ten dollars and some change in American currency, which he doubted they would accept in the hospital cafeteria.

The nurse smiled at him as she reached into her pocket and handed him some bills. She promised she'd stay with Sydney until he came back, and told him where he could find both the bathroom and the cafeteria.

He went to the bathroom. The soap made his hands sticky when he washed them, and for a moment he thought it was dark red. It wasn't; it was a transparent pink, just like any other liquid soap, but he quickly washed it off anyway.

He didn't go to the cafeteria. There were some vending machines down the hall from the bathroom and he bought a package of M&M's and a cup of instant coffee.

Vaughn opened the M&M's and poured a few onto his hand. He ate two, a brown one and a green one, but threw away the red one as he went back to Sydney's room. The nurse smiled at him when he returned, but he didn't smile back. He had been awake for over forty-eight hours and if he didn't look like hell, he at least felt like it.

He took a sip of his coffee and ate an M&M (an orange one), as if to prove to the nurse that he had obeyed her orders. She smiled at him again and left him alone. He put the coffee and the M&M's on the table next to Sydney's bed.

He softly kissed her, before once again taking her hand and returning to his chair, his post at her bedside. The doctor walked in, looked at some of the monitors, glanced at his watch, and sadly shook his head. The last action hadn't been meant for Vaughn to witness; the doctor hadn't known that he had been watching.

The doctor stood at the end of Sydney's bed for a few minutes before finally turning to Vaughn and saying, almost in a whisper, "If she doesn't wake up within the next eight hours, it is very likely that she never will at all."

Then, he walked out of the room, but paused at the door and turned around. "I'm sorry."

Vaughn closed his eyes. And that's when he started to pray, the whispered prayers pouring from his lips in French, like his mother taught him when he was a little boy.


	22. Heaven

The Dream

Chapter 22: Heaven

"Je vous salue, Marie, pleine de grâce, Le Seigneur est avec vous. Vous êtes bénie entre toutes les femmes, et Jésus, le fruit de vos entrailles, est béni. Sainte Marie, Mére de Dieu, priez pour nous, pauvres pécheurs, maintenant et â l'heure de notre mort. Amen."

Over and over he repeated it; at least a hundred times. A whisper, a prayer; pleading with God, the Blessed Mother, and whoever else he thought might help him. He would have made a deal with the devil, would have sold his soul, if he thought it would have helped. The tears were burning in his eyes, clouding his vision and threatening to spill over, but he wouldn't let them fall.

The hours ticked by, seeming to go quicker than they should. One became two; two jumped to three, three blended into four; and before he knew it, it had been over six hours since the doctor had given him that fateful message. He had two hours left. Two hours…Please Syd…Please God…Please…

He pushed back his chair and leaned forward, propping his chin up with his elbow on the edge of the bed. His other hand had yet to let go of her hand.

Tick…Tock…Tick…Tock. Tick. Tock, tick, tock, tick tock tick tock…

Slow down, dammit. Please, slow down…

It was like judgement day. It was driving him insane. He brought her fingertips to his lips, kissing them gently, and then laying both his hand and hers down again on the cool white sheet.

The doctor came in and told him that if she was still unconscious in an hour, they would take her down for testing. They would want to see how much brain function she actually had left. 

And the doctor wouldn't stop there, with saying that she might not remember, that she might be a vegetable, that she might never wake up. He had to continue. He said that after they got the test results, Vaughn would have to decide whether it was worth it for her to stay alive.

How the hell would he ever be able to make a decision like that?

"Shut up!" Vaughn wanted to scream, and pounce on the doctor, put his hand over his mouth, make him gulp back the words; but he knew he didn't; he couldn't. He was too exhausted. He only blinked and kissed her fingertips again. He didn't even lift his head or turn around to face the doctor as he spoke. He didn't acknowledge his presence, didn't speak to him, didn't move.

The doctor left Vaughn alone with Sydney and the clock, which continued its unceasing, tortuous ticking, as if to remind him of how much time there was, but how little he had left. Vaughn hadn't slept for days, since he left LA as a matter of fact. He was tired, so tired. But he couldn't sleep. He had to stay awake to be there when Sydney woke up.

If Sydney woke up…No, not if, when; when she woke up…because she would, she had to…

He softly began his prayers again, without thinking; the words flowed from his mouth mechanically. Soon, he began stumbling over them, confusing them, blending them together. He tried desperately to remember the words, to repeat them in the right order, but he only confused them further. He gave up; he gave in. He would close his eyes, but only for a moment, only to rest them, refresh them…

He woke when he felt something moving his hand, squeezing his fingers. He blinked his eyes open, wondering if he was still asleep, still dreaming.

"Hey," Sydney said softly. Her voice was faint and weak, but it was there. She was talking; she was breathing; she was awake…She was alive.

"Syd! Oh, thank God…" Joy and relief washed over him, crashing down on him like a huge ocean wave. He closed his eyes against its force, silently thanking God for answering his prayers.

"You stayed," she remarked slowly, genuinely surprised he was still there.

"Of course I stayed," Vaughn answered with a smile. How could she think that he would leave her? "How long have you been awake?"

"Just a few minutes. I never got to watch you sleep before."

Her remark was simple and sweet, and it warmed him down to his toes. God, this woman was one in a million. There was no way in hell he would have let her go without a fight.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, wondering how much she really remembered, if she actually knew what had happened, what was going on.

"How do I look?"

He let his emerald eyes wander over her. Dark, angry bruises marring her creamy skin, stitches running like railroad tracks up and down her face and arm… "Beautiful."

"I feel like hell."

"Well, you've been to hell and back."

She smiled; showing him her dimples for a just a moment before her smile disappeared and she winced with the pain those sweet dimples had caused her.

His brow wrinkled with concern. "I'll call the nurse."

He rose and turned toward the door, but she tightened her grip on his hand, pulling him back.

"Stay with me…please."

Her eyes were wide; frightened, like a deer caught in the headlights. She was afraid that he would leave her, that she would be alone and hurt again. She had to understand that she could trust him, that he wouldn't abandon her.

"I'm not leaving you. Never again, I promise."

Sydney sighed happily at his response, and he smiled and sat back down.

"You're so far away," she murmured after a moment, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Lay here with me."

She moved slowly and painfully to the side, making room for him on her bed.

Vaughn held out a hand to stop her, not wanting her to hurt herself further. "I think that's against the rules."  


"Since when have we ever cared about what's in the rules?"

He smiled. She had a point. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. You'll only hurt me by staying so far away." There were those eyes again, pleading with him. He was putty in her hands; he was wrapped around her little finger. He couldn't refuse her anything when she looked at him with those sad, brown eyes.

"Okay," he finally acquiesced. Whatever the lady wants, always.

He lay down beside her, careful not to press too hard against her delicate, bruised body. Her hand shook slightly as she held it out to him. It was as pale as snow, and cold like ice. He intertwined her fingers with his own and kissed them, warming them.

Sydney stared straight ahead. Vaughn could see the pain hidden in the depths of her eyes, dimming their usual sparkle. She was trying to mask the pain, to ignore it and keep it secret from him, but he knew it was there.

She turned her head, looking into his eyes and noticing the dark circles beneath them.

"You look exhausted. How long have you been here?"

The nurse came to the door as she was speaking, but Sydney didn't notice. The nurse was about to step inside, but stopped in the doorway when she saw the two of them, and smiled at Vaughn. He smiled back and she walked away, giving Sydney and Vaughn some time alone.

"Since we brought you here. It was…God, it was almost two days ago."

"But Dixon, Sloane…Will and Francie…I, I have to go…" She struggled to sit up, but could barely pick her head up off the pillow.

"Shh," Vaughn murmured, running a hand through her hair and bringing it to rest on her cheek. "Don't worry. It's been taken care of. All of it."

"But how did you…?"

Vaughn brought his hand away from her cheek and held a finger softly to her lips, silencing her. She kissed his fingertip, and he brought his hand away.

"I'll tell you everything in a minute, but there's something we have to talk about first." He paused and closed his eyes, wishing he didn't have to continue. "Syd, what…what do you remember?"

"He…he had a map," she looked at him, her eyes questioning.

He nodded in response. "I got it. Don't worry, Devlin has it now…Go on."

"He knew about you, about us. He knew everything…"

"I know. I heard." He hated having to make her recall this. He could see that it was hurting her, but it was important that she knew, that she remembered everything, even…

"He wanted to fight. I tried to…but he had that sword. I got it away from him, but then he hit me over the head with a vase."

"That's the last thing you remember?"

"Yeah. The next thing I remember is waking up here with you." She smiled. She thought that was it; she thought she knew the worst of it.

Dammit. Part of him had been wishing that she would already have known, that he wouldn't have to break it to her and hurt her even more. Vaughn sighed. She had to know, and he had to be the one to tell her.

"As soon as I heard you fall, Syd, I ran. I got to you as soon as I could…but it wasn't soon enough. While you were unconscious, Fahim…he took advantage of you…"

Her eyes grew wide, glazed over with tears that were yet to fall, drenched with shock and sadness. "He…he raped me?" she asked, her voice small and helpless, like a child's.

He could try to gloss it over with fancy words. Hide the truth; smother it in whipped cream, bury it in cherries and candy-coated sprinkles. He could try, but she would see through it. The truth would still be there, glaring and dark and ugly; a big, dead spider curled up in the middle of the just-mopped kitchen floor, it's black body glaringly obvious against the sparkling white linoleum.

There really wasn't any way to sugar coat this, was there?

"Yeah, Syd, he did."

The tears began to fall, sliding down her cheeks in big, lazy drops, like the first drops of rain that spoil the bright summer's day.

"Shh, baby, don't cry…The salt'll sting…Shhh, it's okay. It'll be alright…"

But it was of no avail. The tears continued to trickle down her cheeks and Vaughn gave up trying to quiet her. She needed to cry and he let her, wrapping his arm carefully around her and rocking her gently, holding her, protecting her, shielding her; never letting her go.

Slowly, Sydney's tears subsided, and Vaughn wiped them away, running his thumb gently across her smooth skin, washing the sadness away with the tears.

She sniffled, and he gazed into her deep, dark eyes. "I'm so sorry, Syd," he murmured, running his fingers lightly through her hair. But he would be able to protect her now; soon it would all be over.

"S'okay," she whispered back, and even managed a small smile. It wasn't much, but it was a start. She would make it through okay; she always did.

He leaned down and kissed her, slowly and sweetly, tasting the salt on her lips, rinsing away the last remnants of sadness with the last of her tears.

"Two weeks, Syd," he whispered as he pulled away. "Two weeks at the most, and you're free."

He didn't need to say anything more. Her eyes lit up with his words, a flicker of their usual sparkle and life returning. "Really, Michael?" she asked, lacing her fingers through his again.

Michael. She had never gotten into the habit of calling him that, but he would love for her to start.

"Really…So, what are you going to do now?" he asked, trying to brighten the moment by asking about her future. She had told him numerous times that she had had enough of this "spy crap," but never anything more than that. He didn't know whether she would continue school, or opt for an entirely new life. They had never really discussed it before.

Her response wasn't what he had expected.

"Be with you," she answered simply and sweetly.

"I can't wait." And he couldn't. It would make everything they had gone through worth it.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Sydney closed her eyes.

"You okay?" Vaughn asked, immediately worried. Last time she had closed her eyes, he hadn't thought she would ever open them again.

"Yeah, it just hurts."

She was so calm it almost scared him. "It just hurts" probably came nowhere near to describing the pain she was in. Had he been in her situation, that phrase would probably be surrounded by a quite a few choice words and exclamation points.

"I'll get the doctor. He can give you something for the pain."

"Wait…" she whispered. "Tell me what I should know, first."

God, he hadn't even thought of that, and that certainly would have blown their cover, and put them in more danger than they could afford to deal with.

"Good idea. Well, I had to tell them that I was your fiancé to get in here." Vaughn watched her out of the corner of his eye as he said this.

She smiled, and his heart skipped a beat as he continued, "I told them that we're on vacation. I went to the store and you stayed in the hotel room. When I returned…"

Vaughn was interrupted by the sound of someone's throat clearing. The doctor was standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. The nurse appeared at his side and winked at Vaughn.

"Lily," the doctor began, after glancing down at his chart. "I am glad to see that you are awake. How are you feeling?"

"Alright," Sydney answered weakly, knowing right away that he was speaking to her. "All things considered. My head's throbbing, though."

"Of course. We will get you something for the pain. Now, Mr…"

He paused, and Vaughn heard the nurse whisper loudly, "Donovan. Eric Donovan."

"Mr. Donovan, would you mind?" He approached them, motioning towards the floor.

"No, of course not," Vaughn answered, kissing Sydney's hand, and then letting it go so he could get off the bed. He stood back and left the doctor and nurse to their work.

Sydney answered all the doctor's questions to his satisfaction, even managing to catch what the nurse had whispered earlier and refer to Vaughn as Eric. The doctor told her that in a few minutes someone would be up to take her down to radiology for a head CT and an MRI.

He wanted her to stay in the hospital for a few days for observation. Vaughn didn't mind, and he knew that Sydney wouldn't either. A few days together was a vacation, no matter where they were. Soon they'd be free to spend the rest of their lives together; it would be heaven.

The doctor and nurse left just as quietly as they had come. Sydney lay on the bed with a hand on her forehead, waiting for the pain medication to kick in. Her entire body felt bruised, but her head was throbbing so intensely that she could barely feel the pain anywhere else.

Her hand felt cool against her forehead, and that helped a little. She closed her eyes. The doctor's questions had tired her, and he had waited until she had answered them all before finally administering the medication. 

Vaughn approached her quietly. "Syd?"

"Hmmm?" She brought her hand away from her face and opened her eyes. Just looking at him was almost enough to make her forget the pain.

She was glad that they would get to have this time to spend together, she only wished that she was in better condition to enjoy it. She would get to pretend to be his fiancée, and that was almost as good as the real thing…

"I know this might not seem like the time or the place, and you can stop me if…if you want to…but, we've waited so long, and I'm tired of waiting." He paused and watched her, seeming to gauge her reaction, waiting to see if she would ask him to stop, or let him go on. 

Sydney gave him a small smile, urging him to continue. She could see that her smile relieved him, and he grinned in return and cleared his throat.

"The other day when…when I almost lost you…I can't even describe it. It broke my heart. I…I want to make sure that I never ever lose you again, that I hold on to you forever. You don't have to answer me right now if you don't want to…"

His ears were turning red and he was nervously fiddling with his fingers. She had never seen him so flustered. But she didn't interrupt him, and waited patiently for him to go on.

He took a deep breath. "What I want to say is," He knelt by her bed and took her hand.

Her heart caught in her throat. It was a dream; it had to be…

"Sydney, will you marry me?"

But it was better than a dream; so much better because it wasn't in black and white, because she could feel her head throbbing, feel his hand on hers; because it was real.

"Yes," she answered immediately, not even needing to stop and think. "Yes, Michael, I will."

His smile was dazzling and irresistible, a simple mixture of love and joy, like a little kid who's just been licked in the face by his new puppy.

She brought a hand up to the back of his neck and pulled him close, crashing her lips against his. It hurt like hell, but that didn't even matter. Her head was spinning, and when he pulled away, she couldn't see straight, but she didn't care. She could see him and that's all that mattered.

"I love you, Michael Vaughn."

Her head was pounding and she could barely hear herself form the words, but she knew that they had been spoken.

Vaughn whispered something back to her, bringing his head close to hers, his lips brushing her ear. She could just make out the words, "I love you, too, Sydney. I love you, too…"

Colors were beginning to swirl together; her world was spinning out of focus. She closed her eyes, shutting out the sickening cyclone that seemed to be whirling around her.

She knew that she shouldn't have kissed him like that; not now, not so soon, not when her head had already been spinning so fast…But, oh God, it had felt so good, it had been so right. To be able to kiss him like that, whenever, wherever…God, maybe she really had died; maybe this was heaven…

But then she opened her eyes, and there he was gazing back at her. This, this was better than a dream, better even, than heaven. He was there and he would be there, be hers, forever.

This was real.

Thanks for the great reviews everyone. Sorry it took so long to finish, but as a few of you may know, I had some problems with the ending. I know I told you that this would be the last chapter, and technically, it is, but I think it needs an epilogue to clear a few things up. I hope you enjoyed this, and it was at least a little bit worth the wait. :)


	23. Epilogue

The Dream

Epilogue

One week later, Vaughn was driving Sydney back to her house from the airport.

"Tell me again, Michael, what happened at SD-6."

He smiled. She had been bouncing up and down like a five-year-old on Christmas morning ever since they had gotten off the plane. Reality must have hit her when she had actually gotten into his car, and knew she would soon be going to his place.

"I've told you ten times already."

"I know, but I want to hear it again."

Her eyes were sparkling. She knew just as well as he did, that he would tell her again. It had been a week since she had woken up, and he had yet to refuse her anything. He was definitely going to have to work on that in the future, but for now…

"Once upon a time…" he began.

"Stop it Michael," she grinned and swatted him playfully, but suddenly became serious. "It's not a fairytale, you know."

He knew. He knew better than anyone.

"It has a happy ending…For us anyway."

Sydney nodded in agreement, and Vaughn began his story.

"Well, we were able to break into SD-6 sooner than anticipated. We discovered that a group of electricians was scheduled to come in and make some repairs, and this presented the perfect cover for our infiltration. We made a deal with them so our agents could gain access to their equipment, and we infiltrated the building disguised as the electric company…"

Sydney nodded. "Kind of like Cole did when he broke into SD-6 a few years ago."

"Right…Have you heard this story before, Syd?"

She laughed. God, that was such a beautiful sound; one that he had been hearing a lot more lately.

"Go on. I like the way you tell it."

"That group of agents took care of SD-6 security, allowing more of our agents into the building. We blocked off the entrances and exits, and arrested the senior officers. Your father came over the PA system and informed all lower level operatives of what SD-6 really was. We made Sloane give a statement, just for good measure, and then we brought him and his officers down to headquarters for questioning. I believe Sloane is now resting comfortably behind bars, that is if he hasn't become someone's after dinner mint yet…"

Sydney smiled again, showing her dimples. "That's my favorite part…Take a left here."

He followed her directions, turning down the street and stopping at a stoplight.

"And now, a certain double agent and her handler are free to live happily ever after." 

She sighed happily. "Okay, I changed my mind. _That's_ my favorite part." 

He glanced over at her. The stitches had been removed, and what were once deep gashes, were now only scars. Her bruises were much fainter, almost gone completely.

The engagement ring they had picked out after she had been released from the hospital sparkled on her finger, matching the dazzling smile that had yet to vanish from her face. He couldn't remember ever having seen her so happy.

Sensing his eyes on her, she turned to meet his gaze. He could have stayed there forever, just looking at her, gazing into her eyes. But LA drivers are impatient, and horns started blaring.

"Green," she said simply, the smile still playing on her lips.

"Thanks." God, he wanted to kiss that smile from her lips…But there would be plenty of time for that later.

They drove to her house in contented silence, broken only by Sydney's voice softly giving him directions. He finally pulled into her driveway, and they got out of the car and went inside.

"Francie's not here," Sydney remarked, more to herself than to him, as she opened the door.

She took him by the hand and enthusiastically gave him a tour of her house. He smiled at the delight she took in showing him everything, from where she kept her CD collection, to the food that was in the refrigerator.

"And I believe you've already seen the bathroom," Sydney said with a laugh, concluding her tour. "I want to take a quick shower before I pack my things for your place. Is that okay?"

"Of course. Take all the time you need."

"Thanks. Make yourself at home."

He nodded, and kissed her forehead. "Call me if you need anything."

Yesterday, she had been almost incapacitated by a blinding headache. The doctor had told him that it was normal, and if she was lucky, those headaches would be the only problem that would remain from her injury. But it still worried him to leave her alone. Ever since she had been hurt, he hadn't let her out of his sight for more than a few minutes at a time.

Sydney only grinned and raised her eyebrows. "Oh, don't worry, Mr. Vaughn. I will."

Eyes glued on him, she took a few steps backward into the bathroom and slowly started to unbutton her shirt, teasing him. He jumped forward and brought his lips to hers. She kissed him, lightly at first, but as it began to get heated, she laughed and playfully pushed him out the door.

He tried to reach for her, but she was shutting the door, and he quickly removed his hand.

"Later, Michael," she called out, laughing.

Vaughn shook his head. He listened to her movements for a few minutes and when he heard her turn on the shower, he nodded, satisfied that she would be all right if he left her alone. He headed toward the kitchen, deciding that he would surprise her with a late lunch.

He had found everything he needed and had started making the sandwiches, when he heard the front door open.

"…whose car is parked in the driveway," said a voice that Vaughn quickly recognized as Will's.

"Yeah, I don't know," a female voice answered. Vaughn concluded that it could only be Francie.

"Syd?" Will called, as Vaughn made his way from the kitchen.

"We were so worried, we couldn't get a hold of…" Francie began, but trailed off as Vaughn stepped into the room. "Hi."

"Hi. Syd's in the shower," Vaughn said.

"Who're you?" Will asked, getting straight to the point. Vaughn could tell that he didn't trust him and definitely did not like the fact that he was here.

"Michael Vaughn," he answered, offering his hand.

Will kept his hands in his pockets. Francie rolled her eyes, and stepped forward to shake Vaughn's hand.

"I'm Francie Calfo, and this," she said, jerking a thumb towards Will, "is Will Tippin."

Vaughn nodded. "Syd's told me all about you."

"I'm afraid she's never mentioned you."

Vaughn smiled. God, did they have one hell of a surprise coming.

"I'll go see if Syd's out of the shower."

Francie nodded, and Vaughn left. The shower water was no longer running and Vaughn knocked softly on the door. "Syd?"

"Come in," she answered.

He opened the door and stuck his head in. She was wrapped in a towel and Vaughn quickly turned his eyes away from her and kept them trained on the floor. Later, Michael, later…

"Francie and Will are here."

She took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll be right out."

"Sure."

He waited outside the door for her, not wanting to return to Will and Francie alone.

A few minutes later, Sydney stepped out of the bathroom dressed comfortably in jeans and a T-shirt, and smelling like vanilla.

"You look great." God, did she ever…

"Thanks," she answered, flashing him another smile and taking his hand. "Ready?"

He nodded and squeezed her hand. "Let's go."

Sydney led him into the other room and let go of his hand. "Hey guys!"

"Syd, oh thank God!" Francie was on her at once, wrapping her in a huge hug.

"Careful," Syd laughed as she hugged her back.

"Syd," Will offered, giving her a small hug. He was much less enthusiastic than Francie, but from the look he shot Vaughn before he hugged Sydney, Vaughn figured that it wasn't her he was unhappy to see.

"We were so worried! What happened?" Francie asked, running a finger over the nearly healed cut on Sydney's forehead. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine now. I'll explain what happened in a minute."

"Who's he?" Will asked, jerking his head in Vaughn's direction.

Sydney stepped back to Vaughn and took his hand.

"Guys," she began. "Meet Michael…"

"He told us that, but…"

"My fiancé."

"Whoa…" Francie's eyes grew wide, but then she smiled. "Congratulations!"

"Oh my God." Will's jaw dropped; if he had been a cartoon character, it would have stretched and hit the floor.

"All those business trips for the bank, were they for…?" Francie trailed off and gestured toward Vaughn.

"No, the bank trips, well, the bank actually, those were a cover for something else, something bigger…"

"Joey's Pizza," Francie interrupted her. "Was that your secret code?"

"Yes, well, no. It's not what you think…Listen, these scars," Sydney put a hand to her head and then pointed to her arm, "and this one," she lifted her shirt slightly, running a finger along the cut in her side. Vaughn still shivered every time he saw it. It had taken almost 100 stitches.

"A year ago," Sydney continued, "I would have told you that these were from falling down the stairs, or tripping over something, or running into someone on the plane, but that would have been…a lie…I got these in a sword fight in Cairo. I'm not a banker…I'm…I'm a spy."

"What?" Will looked at her blankly, disbelieving. Francie didn't speak at all.

"Sit down, I'll explain." Sydney led them to the couch and sat down.

"When I was a freshman in college, I was recruited by a secret branch of the CIA called SD-6…"

The four of them sat that way for hours. It was dark by the time Francie and Will had finished asking questions. Sydney had told them about everything, except the rape. There were just some things that were best left unsaid, that were supposed to be kept secret.

Vaughn sat beside her the entire time, holding her hand, and comforting her when the story became too much for her to tell.

Sydney rested her head on his shoulder when she finally finished and he kissed the top of her head. She sighed with contentment. Francie watched them, smiling at the interaction between the two; Will fidgeted impatiently.

Sydney took her head off his shoulder, brushing her lips with his as she stood up. "I'm going to get a few things together for tonight. I'll only be a couple minutes."

"Take your time," he nodded.

"I'll help you," Francie offered as she followed Sydney out of the room.

Vaughn and Will sat in an uncomfortable silence. Vaughn occupied himself as best he could with staring at everything around the room, first the pictures on the walls, then his own shoes, and finally the ceiling. He could feel Will's eyes on him, boring into him, studying him, testing him.

Will was a reporter; Vaughn remembered that much. Should he ask him some questions about his job? What else could he talk about? Sydney seemed to be a touchy subject where Will was concerned, so he decided to steer clear of that one. He would have mentioned the weather, but he hadn't been in LA for a week and didn't know how it had been.

"Hey," Will finally mumbled, breaking the silence.

Thank God. Vaughn didn't think he would have been able to stand it much longer.

"Yeah?"

"You love her?"

Vaughn started, taken aback. He hadn't expected that.

But it was an easy question to answer. "Of course. More than anything."

Will nodded and stood up. He approached Vaughn, and for a second Vaughn thought that he was going to smack him. He would fight for Sydney if he had to, had already, as a matter of fact, but her own friend…

But Will stopped as he stood before him, and held out his hand. Vaughn took it and shook it, smiling. At that moment, Sydney and Francie returned.

"Ready, Michael?" Sydney asked, smiling, and he was suddenly struck by her beauty.

Was he ever.

Sydney lay her head on his shoulder as he drove home.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked with a sigh.

"No, it was perfect. You did a great job."

"Thanks," she whispered, nuzzling closer to him. He couldn't wait to get home.

Sydney stood outside the door as Vaughn fumbled for his keys.

"Having some trouble?" she asked him softly, coming up behind him and standing on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

Inside, her mind was reeling. In a few moments, she was actually going to be in his house.

"Nope, none at all," Vaughn answered, as she heard the key finally turn in the lock. He opened the door and moved aside to let her in.

Sydney stood back. This couldn't be real. It was too good to be true. She was going to spend the night in his arms and wake up with him. And not just tonight, but every night for the rest of her life. She pinched herself, just to make sure it wasn't a dream. But she felt the prick of her fingers; it was real…

"Michael!…What are you doing?"

She was no longer standing. Vaughn had crept around behind her and lifted her off her feet.

"Put me down…" she protested weakly, more for appearance than anything else, snuggling closer to him at the same time.

He laughed as he kissed the top of her head and carried her into his apartment, the moon peeking in through the window providing the only light in the room.

He placed her gently in the middle of the room. "There. Welcome home, Syd."

She laughed, "We're not even married…yet."

"I don't care."

He flicked on the lights and Sydney glanced around as she continued.

"But that's the way you're supposed to do it. You get married, and then your husband carries you across the threshold…"

"Face it, Syd," Vaughn interrupted her. "We don't follow the rules. You said so yourself."

He leaned down and kissed her sweetly. She could almost taste the honey and sugar on his lips.

"Mmmm…" she murmured as he pulled away. "Okay."

"So, do you want to see the place?"

Sydney nodded happily, and Vaughn put her arm around her and led her around his apartment.

They ended their tour in the kitchen. "You want something to eat?" Vaughn asked as he opened the refrigerator. "We have, um…" He continued, wrinkling his nose as he closed the refrigerator door and began opening cabinets. "Spaghetti." He took a box from the cabinet and held it triumphantly before her.

Sydney shook her head. "No thanks. I'm not hungry."

Those adorable wrinkles returned to his forehead and he gazed at her with concern. "You sure?" She hadn't been eating a lot lately and she knew that it worried him, but she just wasn't hungry.

"Uh huh," she answered, nodding and stifling a yawn. "I think I'm ready for bed."

"You're not too tired, I hope…" Vaughn began, but was cut off as Sydney crashed her lips against his, finally releasing all the passion and frustration that had built up during the past year. 

His hands were everywhere on her; her hair, her face, her back, her neck…

Sydney pulled away, breathless. "Nope," she managed to whisper, flashing him a dimpled smile.

His eyes were burning with love and desire, as he took her hand and led her to the bedroom.

A few hours later, Vaughn lay in bed, fighting to keep his eyes open. Sydney had fallen asleep half an hour ago, curled up against him, clinging to him tightly. She was still so afraid that he would leave her, but now he had all the time in the world to show her otherwise.

Sydney whimpered and snuggled closer against him. Vaughn planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head, praying that tonight, she wouldn't awaken sweating and weeping; that the nightmares that had been plaguing her for the past week would leave her alone. He could protect her from almost anything, but not from the nightmares, not from the pain that had already wrenched itself in her heart.

He was able to keep his eyes open for awhile longer, standing guard over his Sleeping Beauty, before sleep gently overtook him…

They were all a blur, all except her.

Little Sammy, with his shoes shining brightly and the concentration clearly evident on his face, as he not only held the pillow steady in his chubby hands, but also attempted to stay as far away from the little girl walking next to him as his mother would allow.

Kerri; the sweet little girl that was causing half of Sammy's troubles. She marched solemnly down the aisle, carefully scattering the rose petals after her, her fair curls pinned carefully on top of her head.

He had seen them before the procession started; Sammy had offered him a rosy smile, and Kerri, a shy kiss on the cheek. But as they slowly made their way toward him, he barely noticed.

He saw his mother, with Will leading her to her seat. She was smiling, but he could see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

Then there was Eric, with Francie holding onto his arm. Were they smiling or crying? He didn't notice. They both looked very nice, he could tell you that much; but if you asked him the color of Francie's dress, he wouldn't be able say.

It took him a minute to recognize who stood in the door next. It was Jack, and he was smiling. Then he held out his arm…and she took it.

It seemed to him that an angel had flown down from heaven to join him there, his angel. She was beautiful beyond comprehension, beyond words. Now, he understood why his mother was crying, for the tears were sliding down his cheeks, too.

His angel smiled at him as she came closer, her dimples making her even more picture perfect, adding to her sweetness and charm.

His breath caught in his throat, and he felt himself sway, felt Eric's hand on his back, heard him whispering something in his ear. But he caught his balance, and didn't understand what was said. He couldn't concentrate on anything else, couldn't take his eyes off her, couldn't believe that she was his.

Then, she was next to him and the ceremony began. He took her hand and held it, not ever wanting to let her go.

Everything seemed mumbled; a jumble of simple words, songs, and confusion. He didn't hear any words but hers.

"I do."

Said with a smile and without any hesitation after the murmuring of the priest.

Then it was his turn. He didn't hear the question, but he knew what had been asked and what the answer was.

"I do."

He was surprised that he managed to say it in a normal voice.

Her eyes were deep and sparkling, her cheeks were flushed. God, he wanted to kiss her.

And he could.

"…you may kiss the bride."

He tilted her chin upward and leaned down to her, tasting her sweet lips. It was sugar and chocolate and strawberries and heaven all mixed into one. It was even better. It was her.

He was out of breath, and finally pulled away from her, gasping for air.

He opened his eyes, and there was Sydney, smiling up at him, tears sliding down her cheeks. He gently wiped them away.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Michael Vaughn."

"I love you," he whispered, his voice almost lost among the applause and cheering.

"I love you, too," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close for another kiss…

And it wasn't a dream.

It was real.

So, what did you think? I hope you enjoyed reading this. Be on the lookout for the sequel, it's called "Shattered Paradise." Thanks for reading, and thanks for all the great reviews.


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